


Indentured Servitude

by Dancingdog



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Alpha Dean Winchester, Angels, Angels have one power, Demons, Dense Dean, Humans, M/M, Omega Castiel, Slow Burn, Trans Balthazar, a/b/o dynamics, hurt!castiel, protective!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2020-04-23 14:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 29
Words: 256,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19152943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingdog/pseuds/Dancingdog
Summary: Angels treat omegas like dirt under their shoes. Castiel can't even sit on a train without some alpha turfing him out of his seat. Getting a job in law enforcement took years - omegas aren't supposed to be hired into an 'alpha job', and even though he's clearly the best they have, he still has to put up with his team leader marking him with his oil as though he's the alpha's property.Castiel has a secret though. The angels are at war with demons and when his secret gets out, he has to flee his own planet and make a new life on Earth. Things go wrong. Horribly wrong.Dean is an alpha cop. He stumbles across a young angel on duty and despite the child's apparent hatred of him, decides to adopt him - he's soft like that. Little Samandriel comes in a pair though, and his father, Castiel, is a violent and angry man with a terrible past.He's also been mute for nearly three years.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request from MAPMonstersArePerceptions. They asked for abo with an angel/human twist, where Castiel has been through an indentured servitude-style programme that went wrong. They wanted hurt!Cas with Dean being a dad to Samandriel and then told me to basically have fun with it so... this is the result. Hope it's what you wanted!

_The room exuded the same thick, lip-curling stench of testosterone and alpha pheromones associated with many of the Silver City’s public services. The whole station was teeming with overbearing alphas and brazen betas, each of whom leered at Castiel as he crossed the threshold, numerous documents clutched tightly between his fingers and determined scowl set in place as he demanded an audience with the Captain. As usual, he received a derisive snort and a wing flick of dismissal from the alpha working the front desk, but he had expected such a response and stormed through the station anyway, easily dodging officers that made to stop him as he weaved his way over to the Captain’s office. Not once did he contemplate knocking, too preoccupied with escaping the two alphas that attempted to restrain his wings and drag him away from his intended goal, so he barged into the Captain’s den and slammed the door shut behind him, taking dark satisfaction in the sequence of thuds and pained groans that floated through the thin walls immediately after._

_The Captain was a balding man with thin lips, dark circles beneath his eyes and the beginnings of a small beachball around his middle. His smile was as fraudulent as his suit and he spoke with an air of superiority, chin tilted slightly upwards to compensate for his lack of personality. Like many of the alphas in the station, the stink of self-importance and impertinence rolled out of his pores in waves and Castiel had to physically force himself to keep his face from scrunching into an expression of repulsion. The act was practically second nature to him by now._

_He tossed his documents onto the Captain’s desk with an irritated twitch of his wings and crossed his arms in response to the alpha’s own actions. He refused to be intimidated by this alpha; refused to be rejected once again merely because of his designation._

_The Captain took one glance at the papers sprawled over his desk and sighed, shaking his head as he casually leaned back in his chair._

_“We’ve been through this, Castiel.”_

_The omega smashed his fist onto the desk, wings flaring wide. “I am more qualified than ninety-percent of the officers in this station! I have distinctions in criminology and law. I have published studies on crime rates throughout the Silver City and their causes. I have researched the flaws in our punishment systems intensively, to the point where many prisons have implemented my suggestions, thus decreasing the risk of criminal relapse once released. I have qualifications in two kinds of self-defence and one in offence. I know how to handle a weapon. Remind me again, Zachariah, why having an omega in the Garrison would emasculate you and the other hundred alphas in this precinct?”_

_Zachariah’s lips pulled downwards and his wings began to stretch outwards in an attempt to counter Castiel’s dominating stance. The pathetic gesture would have made Castiel laugh if he wasn’t so angry at the absurdity of the situation._

_“You know very well that omegas aren't accepted by the Garrison,” said Zachariah slowly and the condescending tone made Castiel’s blood boil._

_"Why?” he demanded, wings practically vibrating with frustration. “Because they’re weaker? Because they should stay at home and tend to the fledglings? Because they’re too tempting for alphas in the workplace to resist?” He barely restrained himself from baring his teeth at the older man. “Are you truly that intimidated by omegas?_

_Zachariah stiffened, wings swinging outwards briefly before snapping behind his back in a poor attempt at appearing calm._

_“There are plenty of other jobs more suited to your designation,” he said, entirely ignoring Castiel’s questions. “Jobs that don’t pose the risk of injury and wouldn’t force you to face the disturbing scenarios that officers regularly find themselves in.”_

_Castiel clenched his fists. “I’m not some wilting flower that will faint at the sight of blood. I can take care of myself.”_  

 _Zachariah clasped his hands together over his desk, a weary sigh tumbling from his lips. “I still don’t understand why you’re so intent on working here. There are plenty of places that would accept an omega with open arms-”_

_“I’m neither a florist nor a baker,” snarled Castiel. “I don’t spend my free time tending to the garden or decorating cupcakes. I have no desire to keep my house immaculately tidy, nor do I take joy in cleaning. My main goals in life do not include dolling myself up for potential mates and I can wholeheartedly claim that I never want fledglings. I am my own person and I’m just as able-bodied for this line of work as every other alpha and beta in this station.” He planted his hands on the desk, leaning into Zachariah’s personal space with a wide fan of his wings. “So, either accept me because I deserve this position, or reject me because you’re sexist.”_

_Zachariah’s eyes narrowed into slits. “The fact remains that no station in the Silver City is allowed to hire omegas. Even if you were better than all the alphas and betas who applied for this position – and that’s a big ‘if’ – I still wouldn’t be able to accept you.”_

_Castiel grit his teeth. “I’ll take blockers. I’ll act like an alpha. I’ll spray myself with alpha pheromones before every shift. No one will be able to tell that I’m an omega.”_

_Zachariah snorted and gestured to his door. “I’ll be shocked if there’s a single officer in this precinct that doesn’t know who you are, Castiel. You manage to cause a scene every time you storm in here.”_

_Castiel’s wings lowered a little as the first tendrils of defeat gripped his heart. “I will do anything,” he pleaded softly, the fight draining from his expression. “I have applied to no less than seven stations and each time I’ve been rejected because of my designation. I’ve contacted you every time a new position has opened up and each time I’ve been rejected because of my designation. Ever since I was a fledgling, my dream has been to become an Investigator. Captain Adler, I’ll do anything to be accepted amongst your ranks.”_

_Zachariah’s wings flicked at the small submission and a smug smile quirked his lips as Castiel forced himself to bow his head slightly. It clearly pained the omega to defer to him and Zachariah lapped up every second of Castiel’s discomfort._

_“And why should I be more lenient with you, Castiel?” he asked, relishing the power he had over the omega’s fate. “Why should I accept you but reject every other omega who has dreams of joining the Garrison?”_

_Castiel’s wings lowered further, gaze pinned to the desk in the perfect picture of omega submissiveness. “Please,” he begged again, soft and defeated._

_A wave of triumph and pleasure raced through Zachariah’s being at both the word and the show, and he flexed his wings tall and wide in a display of dominance, lifting his chin in satisfaction when Castiel’s own wings responded by tucking closer to his back._

_“I don’t know, Castiel,” he continued, relishing the omega’s surrender and dragging it out as long as he could. “I don’t think someone like you would cope in such a high-intensity job.”_

_“I’ll do anything,” Castiel murmured, closing his eyes. “I won’t question your orders. I’ll fill in every report and piece of paperwork you give me, without asking where it’s from or whose it is. I’ll work overtime for free.” He shook his head. “I’ll even bring you food and drink whenever you ask for it if that’s what it takes. Please, give me a chance.”_

_Zachariah’s gaze raked over Castiel’s form, from his unusual midnight wings, over his lightly-muscled body, to his young face and pretty bow lips. His mouth tugged upwards into an unsettling smirk as he cocked a bushy, grey eyebrow._

_“Anything?” he drawled._

_Castiel hesitated at the tone but quickly dismissed it upon realising he was being offered a chance at attaining his dream. He nodded eagerly and Zachariah settled into his chair more comfortably, a lazy smirk crawling over his face._

_“Very well. If you can convince your alpha to sign your papers over to me, you will have a place in this station.”_  

 _Castiel straightened and a light frown swept over his handsome features. “I have no alpha. My parents were shot and I have no siblings. My only living relative is my beta grandmother and we don’t have a particularly amicable relationship.” He had never made such a confession to anyone previously._

_Zachariah blinked before leaning forwards with interest. “You’re unregistered? That makes everything much simpler.” His gaze trailed over Castiel’s figure once more and the omega barely held back a shudder. “I’m surprised no one has snatched you up, Castiel. Technically, you’re fair game to any wandering alpha. I suppose you don’t often go around admitting to being unregistered though.”_

_Castiel’s lips drew into a thin line and he shook his head. To admit such things would be like waving diamonds in front of a pickpocket – a perfect stranger could register him as belonging to them and there would be nothing that he could do about it. That was the law of the Silver City; omegas had to be registered to an alpha or face a fine and a randomly-selected alpha given ownership of their papers._

_“It’s a good thing I offered to be your registered alpha,” commented Zachariah with a lecherous grin. “After all, you don’t want to get into trouble with the law, do you?”_

_The hairs on the back of the omega’s neck stood to attention, but he ignored the chill that ghosted through his body in favour of focusing on the idea of finally having a job that meant he could be independent. He could finally prove that omegas did not need an alpha in order to be financially stable._

_“Of course not, Captain,” he said. “I look forward to working under your command.”_

_Zachariah chuckled; a nasally, forced sound that made Castiel’s wings droop a tad lower in a sort of nervous anticipation he had not expected._

_“As do I, Officer Novak. As do I.”_


	2. First Impressions

The house was silent save for the steady rhythm of the ticking clock. The rooms were drab and oddly sparse considering they had been occupied for thirty-two years by the house’s current resident. Three decades ago, the house had been bursting with laughter and life; memories hanging from every wall and colours clashing garishly with each different piece of furniture, yet somehow managing to make the house seem that much warmer. The air had swirled with the aromas of sweet pies and spicy, home-cooked comfort food, and music could always be heard from at least one wing of the old, wooden building, sometimes startling the surrounding sheep from their afternoon naps. At one time, the farm had been overflowing with activity and vibrancy; the land dotted with sheep-shaped clouds and echoing with quiet clucks and drawling calls from cattle. Horses had nickered softly to one another as their owners and their children worked the fields laden with fruit trees. The family had been a happy one back then.

Now, the house creaked and sighed; its panels mismatched and smoke-stained. Ash lined the rafters and the scent of burning wood had never completely faded from the walls. The rooms had dulled over time and some of the damage had never been fully repaired, but pictures no longer lined the walls like they once had and that quirky, colourful furniture was long gone, so there was little motivation to do anything about the cracked floorboards and peeling paint. Music no longer floated through the house and the animals had died years ago, all except one gentle Clydesdale, who was beginning to grey around her muzzle.

Dean stood in his kitchen, staring out over the empty fields as he dried his mug. For a moment, he could smell burning and he had to close his eyes to convince himself that everything was peaceful. When he opened them again, he caught a glimpse of his mother riding a beautiful, black Friesian horse amongst the herds of cattle and he turned away from the window with a weary sigh.

He opened the cupboard where the mugs lived and he stared at the empty spaces that had been filled a mere year ago. For a moment, he paused, panic swelling up within him as he fought to remember why the spaces were empty, but then the affair came rushing back to him, drowning him in despairing feelings he had grown familiar with over many years. He closed the cupboards gently and returned his towel to its proper place before risking one last glance at the window and the empty fields that lay beyond it.

The tick of the clock was loud in his ears.

Three sharp knocks at the door startled him out of his reverie and he shuffled towards it, not quite managing to reach the handle before the lock clicked open and a giant, floppy-haired alpha pushed inside, key in hand and a bright smile lighting his face.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, throwing off happy alpha pheromones that managed to bring a small smile to the older man’s face. “You’re alive!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Very funny, bitch. I haven’t called because work’s been chaos with that Ketch case. Turns out he’s been doling out false papers for years and now we’re questioning why no one figured it out sooner.”

Sam shot him a look that said he knew his brother far too well to fall for his poorly-conceived lies, which was totally unfair because work had been busy and Dean had been working overtime, but whether that was because he wanted to gather more evidence on this Ketch guy or to avoid going home was something he refused to dwell on.

“Actually, that case is why I’m here,” said Sam, letting his brother off the hook, to Dean’s relief. “So, get this, Ketch’s court date is in exactly two weeks and guess who’s prosecution?”

Dean’s eyes widened, a genuine smile crawling over his face as his brother grinned back at him.

“Seriously? They stuck you on this case?”

Sam nodded. “Turns out we’ll be working pretty close over the next two weeks.”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “I’ll be begging to shoot you within a week.”

Sam snorted and flipped his brother off. “Jerk,” he called as he strode towards the kitchen and began searching the cupboard for Dean’s largest mug.

“Sure, help yourself,” drawled Dean as he trailed in after his brother. “There’s a whole fridge full of food over there and my best china plates are in the second cupboard if you want those. Feel free to rifle through my wallet too.”

Sam chuckled and opened the cupboard he knew Dean hoarded biscuits in. He took one just to be cheeky and popped it into his mouth as he returned to making his coffee. Then he swiped his finger over the windowsill and wrinkled his nose.

“Dude… don’t you ever dust anything?” he asked through a mouthful of Oreo cookie.

Dean frowned and shrugged uncomfortably. “Big house. Can’t do everything. I have to work.”

Sam shook his head and swallowed the rest of his cookie. “I have to work too, but my house never looks like this.” He gestured around the dreary room and all its peeling, moth-eaten glory.

Dean crossed his arms. “Well, not all of us own four feathered house-pets to keep everything spick and span, do we?”

Sam scowled, humour instantly fading from his expression and Dean immediately regretted his own bitterness.

“They’re not house-pets,” Sam said quietly but firmly. “And I don’t own them.” He placed his half-empty mug on the counter and glared at Dean with the sort of disgusted disappointment that made the older alpha squirm. Sam’s scent was sour and angry and Dean shied away from it in shame.

“I’m sorry,” he offered softly. “You know I didn’t mean that. You know I love having them over.”

Sam relaxed and picked up his mug once more. “You have a funny way of showing it,” he grumbled.

Dean shrugged lopsidedly and set off in search of a cloth to at least wipe the windowsill down with. He felt Sam’s eyes on him as he hunted.

“It’s quiet in here,” Sam began slowly and Dean released an audible sigh, already knowing where the conversation was heading.

“Yeah, well, I like quiet.”

Sam scrunched his nose and Dean resolutely ignored him as he made a point of dusting the windowsill.

“You’re obviously lonely, Dean. You’re constantly making comments about me living with angels. You spend every hour you can at work. You never do anything with this old dump despite it looking as though it’s falling down around you. You eat nothing but TV dinners and instant coffee. Dude, you’re depressed. Even Hera looks like she wants to hang herself in her stable and she’s a freakin’ horse!”

“I’m not doing this again,” growled Dean, throwing his duster onto the draining board and marching towards the kitchen’s exit, only to be stopped by Sam, whom had managed to fill the entire doorway with his massive frame.

“No, we’re talking about this. I don’t understand why you don’t try to help yourself,” insisted Sam. “If you just make a little more effort to-”

“What did you expect, Sam?” snarled Dean. “Lisa was having an affair behind my back! My fiancé cheated on me for four months and the only reason I found out about it was because I caught them _in my bed_! Mom burned alive, Dad drank himself to death and you moved out the first chance you got! I am lonely! At least when I’m at work, I’m not drowning in silence! At least I can talk to people!”

Sam reared back in shock at the sudden outburst. He winced at the overpowering stench of hurt and fury radiating from Dean, but still refused to move from the doorway, even when his brother growled at him.

“I get it, Dean,” he said quietly and Dean would have scoffed at him but Sam hadn’t finished. “Why do you think I joined the rescue programme?”

The older alpha paused, tilting his head in confusion. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t have a clue why Sam had chosen to house four angels for seven years – he had just assumed it was another of his brother’s liberal ideas. Rescuing four angels from war-torn Heaven came with a certain moral high ground that suited Sam down to the core.

Sam shifted awkwardly. “I was lonely too. The only reason I moved out of this place was because I couldn’t stand to see what the house had become after… y’know. Too many memories.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was surprised when you stayed.”

Dean frowned. The thought of selling his parents’ house had never once crossed his mind. He couldn’t leave all the memories in those walls to be destroyed by someone who had no respect for the place and its past.

“Anyway, after everything that happened with Jess, I realised I was in a bit of a funk and I thought being around people would be good for me, y’know?” Sam continued. “So, I joined the mentoring programme and it’s probably the best thing I ever did. I mean, I’ve lived with those guys for six years now and they’re basically family. They really helped me through all my crap and in turn, I helped them. I’m gonna be upset when they leave next year.”

Dean slumped a little. Honestly, he was going to be upset when the angels left to start the own lives. He had grown used to them popping around and teasing him whenever he went over to Sam’s place. They were weird and fun and far too curious for their own good.

“If you wanted someone to help you through your crap, why not hire a therapist?” asked Dean. “Or, well, come to me?”

Sam levelled him with an unimpressed stare. “Please. You’ve got the emotional capacity of a Pet Rock.” He shrugged. “And a therapist isn’t the same. I was lonely, Dean. Not in need of having my head dissected.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “So, you _adopted_ friends? That’s healthy.”

Sam flushed pink and squared his shoulders. “Look, it worked for me, okay? You don’t have to do it. I’m just giving you an option.”

“Well, I’ll think about it,” said Dean, fully intending to never think about the idea ever again.

Sam nodded and finally let him escape the kitchen. The pair of them pottered into the living room and planted themselves on two separate couches.

“How are they anyway? The angels?” asked Dean as he kicked his feet up onto the soft cushions, stretching out over the couch.

An affectionate smile warmed Sam’s face and Dean quirked his own lips upwards at the familiar expression. He had come to associate that particular smile of Sam’s with stories of his angelic housemates.

“Really great,” said Sam. “I took them to Florida for a long weekend. They seemed to really enjoy it. Nice to get away from it all for a few days, although they did complain about the storm on Saturday.”

Dean relaxed into the cushions as he listened, content to keep conversation light and upbeat. He asked a few questions here and there and chuckled when Sam recounted a tale of the angels dragging him into an adult toy shop before he grew too red-faced and herded them all out again. A couple of hours passed and soon, Sam was standing up and popping the kinks out of his back, claiming that he had promised everyone Chinese for dinner. They bid one another a pleasant evening and it was only when Dean locked the door, did he realise that they had spent the entire conversation talking about the angels and their quirks.

He glanced around the insipid room and leaned against the door, suddenly weary. The soft ticking of a clock was loud amongst the silence of the rest of the house. He ran gentle fingers over a faded wall and grimaced when a flake of paint tumbled to the floor and disintegrated in a lacklustre explosion.

He pushed away from the door and shuffled into the kitchen again, staring out over the barren fields. If he concentrated, he could hear his mother calling him to bring the cows in for milking.

He turned away from the window and frowned at the smoke-damaged floor. With a lump in his throat, he slid his phone out of his pocket and typed in ‘CosmicLiberators.org’. He was directed to a website with a banner that displayed a multitude of smiling people; some with wings of various colours and shapes sprouting from their backs, others looking far more human. Some of the people had horns rising from their skulls, whilst others had shiny rings of bright light floating above their crowns. The only similarity all of the people shared was their picture-perfect grins, carefully edited to make everyone seem undoubtedly happy.

Dean frowned and scrolled down the page. The rest of the website was more of the same; with colourful headings and swirling letters and more pictures of laughing people with quotes beneath them. It was bright and bold and flawless and against his better judgement, Dean clicked on the ‘Residents’ tab. He was greeted with a search bar that asked him to input his address, so he complied and was quickly greeted with dozens upon dozens of non-human faces, thankfully not as forcedly joyful as those on the main page. Each picture was pasted beside a brief summary of the person’s character and when clicked on, would open up into a full description of the person, including any notes or warnings that the staff thought necessary for browsers to know.

Dean picked one man at random; young, olive-skinned and a silver halo of light floating above his head. Beside his picture, there was a short summary.

 

**Zephon**

**Angel. Male. Beta. 26 years.**

**I’m a little shy and tend to keep to myself**

**I like children but I don’t like animals**

**I don’t do well in new situations but I can adapt with time and patience**

**I love reading and music**

**I speak advanced English and intermediate Spanish**

Dean pulled a face but clicked on the angel’s picture anyway. He was led to a full summary of the angel’s character and a brief history of what he had been through before fleeing to Earth and signing up to the mentoring programme. In Dean’s mind, the entire website looked more like a rehoming charity for pets than an organisation dedicated to granting angels and demons amnesty from their war-torn planets.

The war between Heaven and Hell was well-known amongst Earth’s inhabitants. When the first few angels and demons had fled their ravaged planets, humans had mistaken them as bad omens; signs that the apocalypse in all its biblical glory was finally coming to fruition. They had never considered the possibility that a couple of thousand years ago, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John had each stumbled across some very lost aliens, adorned with beautiful wings and gleaming halos, and had promptly written some compelling stories to entertain their towns with. Paul was the only Apostle to have ever met a demon and he had died shortly after, never speaking of his findings to anyone.

The past five decades had seen angels and demons seeking refuge from a merciless war that had been devastating their respective planets for over a hundred years. As the decades progressed, human fear had quickly diminished and it had become evident that angels and demons could not be allowed to roam Earth freely when there was so much bloodshed between their species. Human, demon and angel cultures were so vastly different and the language barrier presented a significant problem for humans. It wasn’t uncommon for demons and angels to brawl in the streets and because they possessed no Earth currency and no knowledge of how to obtain it, they resorted to thieving and, in some cases, threats and fighting.

Humans quickly decided that a test was needed to determine whether the refugees could live peacefully on Earth. That idea developed into a course that would teach angels and demons basic human culture and language. Later, after years of tweaking and perfecting, a seven-year programme had been developed; one that comprised of humans taking a refugee into their home and becoming their mentor. The mentor was expected to meet certain criteria, which included teaching at least one Earthen language; providing basic needs, such as food, fresh water and shelter; socialisation opportunities with their own species; freedom from fear and pain; basic education on Earthen culture; and finally, teaching at least one skill that would allow the refugee to earn a wage once the programme’s allotted seven years were over. 

All refugees who came to Earth were expected to take part in the programme and those that chose not to were considered illegal residents of Earth and could be imprisoned for life. All humans who signed up to be mentors were assessed both physically and psychologically to ensure that they could provide the best possible care for the refugees, and every six months, were expected to fill in a progress report for their selected refugee. At the end of the seven years, mentors signed a completion form to prove that the refugee was on their way to becoming a registered member of Earth.

For the most part, the system worked. However, Dean was a seasoned detective and he knew things went wrong more often than most governments cared to admit. Shady humans slipped through the cracks of the testing system, spiteful refugees sometimes killed their mentors, completion forms could be forged… and the list went on. Dean had seen enough in his time to know that when things went wrong, they really went wrong.

With a shake of his head, Dean closed the webpage and tucked his phone into his pocket. He padded through the kitchen’s back door and stepped out into the sun-washed fields, heading down to the stables to feed their lone occupant.

 

*             *             *

 

 _Helen’s Hostel for Refugees_ had four stories and was composed of various colours of cheap wood. The windows were old-fashioned and mismatched and one of the support beams for the porch had snapped some time three years ago. What little garden the place had, was muddy and colourless and Dean’s boots squelched and popped as he made his way up to the front door. The place smelled vaguely of mould and dry rot.              

Beside him, Gordon screwed up his face in disdain as he glanced down at his own filthy boots. He tried to scrape the excess muck onto the porch railings, but they creaked and shuddered the moment he touched them, so he returned to Dean’s side with a huff.              

“I hate these places,” he grumbled.

Dean ignored him. He was well accustomed to his partner’s insufferable complaining after so many years and he had learned to keep his mouth shut and pretend he wasn’t listening. Gordon was a good detective, but his testosterone sometimes got the better of him and Dean had lost count of how many times he had forced the other alpha to take a walk or hand over his gun. Detectives weren’t supposed to threaten to shoot their suspects just because they couldn’t remember what kind of noodles they had eaten four nights ago. Dean suspected that Gordon had anger management issues, but he would never admit that to the guy’s face.

He rang the bell and a few moments later, the door swung open to reveal a blonde woman, barely out of her teens. A pair of oversized, black rimmed glasses were perched on her nose and she narrowed emerald eyes at Dean and Gordon as she studied them. There was nothing remarkable about her clothes, but the twisting horns rising from her skull immediately identified her as a demon and despite her hiding herself behind the door, Dean could narrowly spot a glossy, brown bat-like wing folded close to her back.

“Detectives Winchester and Walker,” Dean offered with a reassuring smile, flashing his badge as the woman eyed them suspiciously. “We’re here about the break-in?”

The woman frowned but eventually opened the door wider and allowed them entrance. She led them through a long hall lined with doorways and a slender staircase. A few doors squeaked open as curious heads popped out of them to regard the two humans, but then the woman pushed through the end door and Dean found himself standing in a large, open room filled with colour and soft furnishings. There were huge bookcases pressed against one wall and comfortable chairs and beanbags were scattered around, some occupied and others buried beneath paper and paintbrushes and pencils. Artwork lined the walls and a couple of computers were tucked neatly into a corner, a handful of demons huddled around one, snickering quietly. The coffee table was full of mugs and half-eaten trays of cookies and muffins and the room swirled with the scent of cinnamon and sugar. At the far side of the room, nearest the large window and glass doors that led onto a small flower-filled garden, a gaggle of angelic children stretched their wings in the sunlight, sketching and chittering to one another in their native tongue.

Dean had never been inside a refugee hostel before but he had certainly not expected anything like this.

“Good morning, detectives,” came a firm, yet pleasant voice. Dean turned and took in the sight of a woman well into her seventies. She had a hooked nose and thick grey hair tied into a neat bun and her eyes were clear and sharp as she assessed the younger men. She smelled distinctly beta but her posture exuded authority and Dean wondered if this was the owner of the hostel.

“Helen,” the beta introduced, holding her hand out and Dean smiled, shaking firmly as he bowed his head slightly in respect. The hostel was this woman’s home; her territory containing all the charges she cared for and it made sense that she would be protective of everything within these walls. Dean had no intentions of being the type of guy who stunk up the room with alpha pheromones and intimidated everyone with dominance posturing just to make a point of being in charge.

“Detectives Winchester and Walker,” Dean said politely and Helen smiled at him pleased, before turning her critical gaze to Gordon, who was already beginning to reek of pheromones. He lifted his chin, squaring his shoulders a little as he offered his hand to Helen and Dean rolled his eyes at his partner’s testosterone-clouded brain. Helen shook his hand roughly, eyes narrowed and unimpressed by his posturing. She quickly slid her hand from his grip and jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

“I’ll take you to the crime scene,” she said before whirling smartly on her heel and guiding them towards what appeared to be some sort of study. It was filled with desks and chairs and an assortment of books, newspapers and journals. There were a few laptops littering the back desks and a projector dangled from the ceiling. On one side of the room, there was a whiteboard and a larger desk, fitted with drawers and cupboards.

“This is where we teach our residents everything they need to know before they are assigned a mentor,” Helen explained. “Social skills, a little about human culture – those sorts of things. Last night, we were in the middle of an adult class for the residents that have only recently joined us.” She pointed to a shattered window on the far side of the room. “My staff were teaching a group of demons basic English language when three masked humans broke through that window and attempted to grab one of our new omegas. Fortunately, they didn’t succeed.”

Dean’s mouth drew downwards as he glanced around the room. Other than the broken window, one out-of-place desk and an overturned chair, the place looked pristine.

“You said on the phone that your staff fought these people off?” Dean asked, brows furrowed as he glided towards the crime scene, Gordon following closely behind.

Helen nodded. “From what my staff told me; the assailants didn’t put up much of a fight. Apparently, they just… left. Tried to grab the girl, met some resistance and fled. I would have thought it was a hate-crime, except for the fact that they never actually did anything.”

Dean pursed his lips. Hate-crimes were certainly a differential in most cases; there were a significant number of humans around the globe whom thought that demons and angels had no place on Earth and would actively demonstrate these opinions. Violence was not uncommon in these cases and neither was hate-speech or petty crime, such as stealing or property damage.

However, something smelled rotten about this particular case and Dean had a suspicion that the break-in was more than a simple hate-crime. “Was anything stolen?”

Helen shook her head.

Gordon scrutinised the window frame and the pattern of fragmented glass scattered over the floor. “Do your staff remember anything about the assailants? Any defining features? Hair colour, body type, face shape?”

Helen crossed her arms. “Like I said, they were masked. If you wish to speak to them, you’ll have to find them at their homes. I gave them the day off to recover. I doubt they’ll tell you anything more than they wore all-red and were hooded. We do have CCTV in all of our rooms though, if you wish to take a look.”

Dean straightened quickly and whirled to face the beta. “They were wearing red?”

Helen frowned in confusion. “Yes. Is that important?”

Dean glanced at the grim-faced Gordon before returning his attention the Helen. “KPD have been chasing a trail of omega-related crimes all over the state. Occasional kidnappings here and there, a few forged papers, some hostage situations.” He scowled. “Then there’s the abuse cases. Really gritty ones. Sex work, trafficking, years of degradation and humiliation in some sicko’s basement. Only thing connecting them all is the attackers, handlers, traffickers, whatever… they all wear red. It’s like a uniform of some sort. Or a statement. Thing is, we don’t know if these people are all working together or if it’s just a signalling system to each other that they’re also in the business of abducting omegas.”

Helen’s eyes widened and for the first time, Dean saw her tough exterior crumble. She was worried for her charges and honestly, Dean didn’t blame her. The hostel was teaming with omegas and they couldn’t all be guarded every second of every day.

“Will they come back?” breathed Helen. “Will they try to take someone else? What about my staff? Are they safe or are human omegas on their list too?”

Dean shook his head. “From what we can tell, humans are safe. These people only seem to target angels and demons.”

She rubbed at her wrist anxiously, seemingly lost in thought and Dean watched the skin turn red and raw.

“Look, your staff fought back and these guys didn’t get what they came here to get. Chances are, they’re gonna think twice about coming here a second time. They’ll know you’ve involved to police and they’re not gonna risk it when everyone’s on high alert here. It’s unlikely you’ll have another run-in with them,” reassured Dean. “And that’s if these guys even were abductors. They might just be people with chips on their shoulders about angels and demons. Like you said; could be a sloppy hate crime.”

Helen didn’t look too convinced but she did relax a little and offered Dean a small, appreciative smile, which Dean returned.

“Still, you should be vigilant. It’s not unknown for these sorts of people to return and with such easy pickings here, I wouldn’t put it past them to try again,” huffed Gordon, striding away from the window and towards Helen, who was beginning to look nervous again. Dean glared at his partner.

Gordon ignored him, crowding into Helen’s space and puffing himself up again as he handed her his card. “Call us if you have further questions,” he ordered, more than offered. Then he paced out of the room without a backwards glance.

“Ah… do you mind sending us a copy of the CCTV footage?” asked Dean, far softer than his partner. He reached into his pocket and ripped out a page from his notepad. He scribbled his email onto it and pressed it gently into Helen’s hands and she finally seemed to come back to herself; eyes gaining clarity and skin flooding with colour again as she focused on Dean.

“Any concerns and you call us, okay? We’re here to help and we have no intentions of letting these guys take anyone else,” said Dean quietly, gaze warm and assuring.

Helen inhaled deeply through her nose, calming herself and Dean’s scent turned comforting and subtly protective. Helen managed a weak laugh and she squeezed his arm. “I’ll send you the footage, Detective,” she said, smile a little brighter.

Dean grinned at her and guided her away from the classroom. “Forensics will pop around later to take photos and scour the scene for anything that might ID the perpetrators and then they’ll do a bit of tidying up. The only thing you’ll have to worry about is buying a new window.”

Helen glanced around the main living space, drinking in the sight of angels and demons carrying on about their day obliviously. “Thank you, Detective,” she murmured.

Dean nodded and was about to bid her farewell, when he heard an ear-piercing scream and a curse from Gordon. Alarmed, he and Helen whipped their heads around to find Gordon scowling down at an angelic child, no older than ten, who was crying his little lungs out as he clutched at a slightly crooked snowy wing speckled with tiny black spots. His face was red and tears streamed down his cheeks and above his head, his halo glowed an intense purple, shining brighter and brighter with every sob.

Around the living space, angels and demons watched on, some shrinking back from the pained cries and others itching to help but feeling too nervous to approach Gordon, who was beginning to spew waves of irritation amongst the scent of cloying alpha pheromones.

“Samandriel,” Helen breathed as she scuttled towards the young child. She gathered him into her arms and he stiffened, halo flickering wildly between purple and white as his irises started to glow.

A few surrounding angels and demons began to shuffle towards the walls, wings pinned to their backs or raised high as they stared at Samandriel, but Dean didn’t notice them as he scowled at Gordon.

“What did you do?” he demanded, unflinching as Gordon growled softly at him in warning.

“I didn’t see him. Wasn’t my fault he stuck his wing under my foot.”

“Seriously?” scoffed Dean. “You didn’t see him? Weren’t you watching where you were walking?”

“I got a text,” Gordon snapped, the scent of his anger thick and repugnant as he attempted to intimidate Dean.

Accustomed to his partner’s temper tantrums, Dean rolled his eyes and turned to the child instead, who was rigid in Helen’s arms. His halo was a bright, solid ring of white and his wide eyes shone blue as he stared up at Helen, unmoving. Helen was strangely still for a moment but she eventually combed her fingers through the boy’s wings, movements cautious and gentle.

“Easy, Samandriel,” she cooed. “You’re alright.” She switched into a different language, repeating the simple phrases and Dean recognised the harsh syllables of Enochian – the shared language of angels and demons. There were many other languages on Heaven and Hell, just as there were on Earth, but Enochian was the standard that allowed everyone to communicate with one another, just as English was spoken on Earth.

Dean watched curiously as the young boy’s wings began to loosen, his eyes dimming as his halo faded back to purple. He had only seen an angel’s halo glow purple once before; when one of Sam’s angels had managed to fire a nail gun through his own hand. He knew the colour of the halo denoted their emotions, but the only ones he had ever understood were joy (gold), contentedness (yellow) and nervousness (silver). Did purple indicate pain?

“Detective Winchester, are we leaving?” asked Gordon, a little abruptly.

Dean rolled his eyes but decided they probably should head off soon. Captain Henricksen would probably want a report filed at some point today.

“Sorry, kid. I’m sure a big man like you will be okay though, right?” He leaned over to ruffle the boy’s hair reassuringly and suddenly, sharp fingernails slashed through his cheek as white wings flared high and wide, smacking Helen harshly in the face. Dean hissed in pain, pressing a palm to his bloodied cheek and he heard the frantic beat of flapping wings accompanied by a child’s angry screeching, before there was a panicked shout from Helen and a heavy _thud_.

Dean whirled around, blood trickling slowly down his fingers, to find Samandriel on the floor and curled up on his side, clutching his damaged wing as he began to sob.

Somewhere behind him, Gordon growled in irritation, the scent of his annoyance growing more pungent and Samandriel stiffened once more, halo flickering violently between purple and white as he tried to stifle his wounded cries.

Instinctively, Dean reached down and gathered the boy into his arms, ignoring his stinging cheek and the way Samandriel had quickly tensed, wings rigid behind him as he stared at Dean in what the alpha had only just recognised was fear. This close, he could smell the flood of omega terror pouring from the boy, overpowering any pain or any other emotion the child might have been experiencing. There was nothing but pure, unadulterated fear.

Dean automatically held him closer, the urge to protect and soothe overwhelming him. Immediately, Samandriel struggled in his grip, wings flapping urgently and Helen made to remove him from Dean’s arms when the boy let out a frightened whimper, but Dean tucked him into his chest without thinking.

“G geh blans,” he whispered, splaying his hand over the boy’s back and Samandriel froze for a moment, blinking in surprise. For a few seconds, no one spoke, but then Samandriel slowly leaned backwards to stare up at him, gaze brimming with mistrust but not quite as wild as it had been a few moments previous.

“…You speak Enochian,” breathed Helen, a tiny smile touching her lips.

Dean shook his head and risked a glance towards her now that he knew Samandriel wasn’t going to lash out again.

“Only a little,” he corrected before returning his gaze to the child. “Simple phrases.”

Samandriel frowned at him, so Dean offered him a lopsided smile. **_“I promise, you’re safe,”_** he repeated in the boy’s native tongue.

Samandriel narrowed his eyes. **_“I don’t believe you,”_** he whispered back.

“Samandriel,” reproached Helen, but the little omega ignored her, refusing to take his eyes off Dean.

Dean blinked at the reply and, for a moment, he was struck by a memory of himself at that age, squaring off against a bunch of older kids who had wanted to take his lunch money but had assured him that they just wanted to see his Batman wallet. His lips quirked at the memory. He had been a bit of a scrawny kid; a little like Samandriel.

 ** _Smart kid.”_** Dean winked playfully. **_“Never trust a stranger.”_**

Samandriel continued to glare at him, but his halo had darkened from white to silver intermingled with wisps of purple. Dean cast his gaze to his wing, noting the radius looked fractured from both Gordon’s boot and the awkward fall.

He turned to Helen. “You wouldn’t happen to have a splint, would you?”

Helen looked between him and the young angel, strangely pleased and nodded before scurrying away.

“Winchester,” Gordon protested. “I thought we were getting out of here!”

“We were until you stepped on a kid,” Dean said coolly, aware that they were being watched by over a dozen angels and demons and Samandriel, who scowled between them.

Gordon bristled and Dean rolled his eyes at the tide of alpha anger that permeated his scent. In his arms, Samandriel tensed and Dean frowned and subtly shuffled away from Gordon under the pretence of squinting at the titles on the bookshelves. Samandriel quickly picked up on the movement and frowned at Dean, gaze swirling with frustration and confusion.

 ** _“Put me down,”_** he demanded. **_“Or I’ll hurt you again.”_** He eyed the slices in Dean’s cheek.

Dean raised an eyebrow. **_“Not before I fix that wing.”_**

 ** _“Let me go,”_** Samandriel growled, one hand balling up into a fist.

Dean scowled at him. He had no doubt that the second he put Samandriel down, the kid would make a run for it and that wing would go untreated for at least another day. He had a feeling Samandriel didn’t accept help from others too easily. A lot like him, actually.

**_“I will when I fix that wing.”_ **

Samandriel growled in frustration. **_“Why do you even care?”_**

Dean rounded a comfortable-looking couch and plopped into it, perching Samandriel on his lap. He shrugged. **_“You’re hurting.”_**

Samandriel’s jaw clicked shut and he stared at the alpha defiantly before wriggling out of his lap and sitting in the seat beside him, arms crossed. A smile threatened Dean’s lips.

“Dean,” he introduced after a moment, not taking his gaze off the small dent in the wall as he stared directly ahead.

Samandriel huffed at him irritably. After a whole minute he offered, “Samandriel.”

Dean grinned.

A few minutes later, Helen jogged into the living space with a wooden splint and a handful of bandages and tape. Dean collected them from her and gently extended Samandriel’s fractured wing, ignoring his flinch. He reset the bone and taped the splint to the margin of the wing, grimacing a little at the boy’s soft cry. Then, being careful not to damage any of the feathers, he bandaged the damaged section of wing up and leaned back to survey his handiwork. It wasn’t the neatest job in the world, but he was hardly a doctor. He just came across a lot of cases that required medical treatment in his line of work.

“It’ll hold for now, but you should really take him to a hospital to make sure those bones line up,” Dean said as he stood. He watched Samandriel inspect his wing curiously and turned to Helen. She nodded at him in acknowledgement, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Thank you, Detective.” She cocked an eyebrow. “You like children?”

Dean shrugged, surprised by the question and Helen chuckled softly and shook her head before nodding towards Samandriel. “You have a way with him. It’s rare to see that sort of instinct in alphas.” She briefly flicked her gaze to Gordon, who had his arms crossed and was shooting Dean a thunderous expression, scent roiling with impatience. She returned her attention to Dean and he offered her a lopsided smile.

“You have children of your own?” she asked and Dean shook his head quickly. He didn’t even have a girlfriend anymore.

She glanced down at his hand, clearly looking for a ring and when she found none, she lifted her gaze, eyes sparkling. “Would you ever consider being a mentor?” She nodded to Samandriel unsubtly.

Dean huffed out a laugh. He admired the beta’s forwardness. “I don’t really live a kid-friendly lifestyle. And my house isn’t exactly equipped to deal with… company.”

Samandriel is happy to entertain himself,” she said. “He’s fairly independent.”

Dean shook his head. “Look, I’m sorry but I can’t do the whole ‘take care of an angel for seven years’ schtick. I wouldn’t have a clue what to teach him and I have no idea what kind of skills would help him become… a member of society or whatever. I’m not smart enough to do any of that stuff.”

Helen furrowed her brow. “I find that hard to believe, _Detective_.”

Dean scratched the back of his neck, tips of his ears burning pink. “And what about the kid’s parents? You have to keep families together in this programme, right? No way can I take care of two fully grown angels and their offspring.”

Helen’s face went carefully blank and a sense of unease washed over Dean.

“Samandriel only has one parent,” she said slowly, “and he is… currently unavailable for the programme.” She straightened. “Samandriel would be your only charge.”

Dean frowned, immediately sensing something wrong. “What do you mean ‘unavailable’? Is he here? Is he sick?”

“Does it matter?” Gordon huffed, storming over and glaring at his partner. “Unless you’re going to adopt the little brat, we need to get back to the station. Oh, and by the way, if you are thinking of taking him, could you do it in your own time and not whilst we’re on the clock?”

Of course, Gordon was right, but Dean didn’t like his attitude or the way Samandriel was beginning to cower from him. So, he threw the car keys at Gordon and glowered at the other alpha. “I’ll call a cab.”

Gordon pulled a face. “Vic’ll have your ass.”

“If you wanna leave so badly, then go,” snapped Dean. “You’re right, we’re on the clock and I’ll deal with the repercussions later.”

Gordon stiffened. Dean rarely lost his temper with him in public view because it looked unprofessional, but Dean was in no mood for his partner’s posturing after the way the morning had started and Gordon must have picked up on that because he gave a tight nod and paced out of the room, keys in hand.

Dean sighed and turned to Helen with an apologetic glance. She offered him an understanding gaze and he turned his attention to Samandriel, who was staring up at him warily, but seemingly a lot more relaxed now that Gordon was gone.

“Why is his parent unavailable?” Dean tried again, softer this time.

Helen shifted her weight slightly before clasping her hands over her front. “He didn’t take well to our induction week. He… doesn’t socialise well.”

Dean frowned. “So, where is he?”

Helen licked her lips. “In our isolation unit. He’s been down there for three months.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Wait… does Samandriel ever get to see him? Why are they separated?”

Helen looked uncomfortable and she shook her head, but Dean sent her a stern look and she sagged slightly and lowered her voice. “They’re separated because the father is… violent. Uncontrollably so. He has already hospitalised one of my staff and injured four others, including myself. He’s wild, entirely distrusting of everyone he sees. He is both physically and psychologically scarred and I’m not entirely certain what his history entails, but the officers who brought him here said it wasn’t pleasant.”

Dean blinked. “Officers? The police brought him here?”

Helen nodded. “For rehabilitation. It was hoped that he would be able to re-enter society after his last mentor failed him.”

“So, he’s been through the programme before?”

“He never completed it. Apparently, his previous mentor was imprisoned for… misuse of the programme.” She scrunched her nose in disgust. “The skills he taught were unsavoury and degrading. Samandriel’s father, and to a lesser extent Samandriel, were abused for five years before officers rescued them and brought them here.”

Dean had a feeling he knew what kind of ‘unsavoury’ skills she was referring to. Still, something didn’t sit right with him about the father being stuck in an isolation unit after everything he’d suffered.

“So, does he ever get to see his kid?”

Helen looked apologetic as she shook her head. “Like I said… he’s incredibly violent. It’s as though he’s not even an angel anymore. He’s… broken. We can’t risk him hurting Samandriel.”

Dean’s mouth turned downwards and he glanced at the young angel sadly. Poor kid.

“What’s his name? The father’s?”

Helen tilted her head. “Castiel.”

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Samandriel’s head snap up at the name and he frowned when the word rang a bell in some deep part of his own subconscious. Why did it sound so familiar?

Curiosity piqued, Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Can you show me?”

Helen looked stunned for a moment before she shook her head. “We can’t allow the public into the isolation areas.”

Dean smiled charmingly. “Not even a detective who’s trying to undertake an investigation into a break-in inside this very hostel?”

Helen pursed her lips unhappily as she realised the implications. “Official police business, huh?” she said drily.

Dean grinned and she snorted and gestured for him to follow. Before he got a chance to trail after her retreating form, a hand grabbed his sleeve and he looked down to find Samandriel glaring up at him.

“Castiel?” he demanded and Dean nodded slowly, watching as the boy narrowed his eyes, clearly expecting to accompany them. After a moment of uncertainty, Dean shrugged and grabbed the child’s hand, ignoring his warning growl as he caught up to Helen. Samandriel looked up at him angrily, halo flicking between black and silver and he tried to wrench his hand from Dean’s grip, but the alpha placed a finger to his lips and silently gestured to Helen’s back. Samandriel glared at him, but quieted and Dean released him.

Helen led them down to the locked basement. Once they slipped inside, they were greeted with dim artificial lighting and a row of iron-walled rooms, each fitted with large windows. Behind these rooms, were the isolation units, each with small, one-way windows adorning their front walls. The corridor was eerily silent and bare and Dean shuddered a little at how cool it was.

“Samandriel!”

Dean startled at Helen’s shout and the angel quickly hid behind Dean’s legs, out of her reach.

 ** _“Dean said I could come!”_** he protested and Dean’s eyes widened as Helen turned her glare on him instead.

Little shit.

“It’s his father,” Dean said weakly. “He’s not seen him in three months.”

Helen huffed irritably. “There’s a reason for that.” She eyed Samandriel for a moment before sighing. **_“Behave,”_** she growled.

Samandriel slunk behind Dean’s legs again.

Helen strode down the corridor towards the end room, where she unlocked the security door and guided them into an open space that allowed them to peer into Unit Five. She then locked the security door behind her. Out of the five units, only one was occupied. The rooms weren’t all that big but they held a bed and a table and chair as well as a bathroom area that was hidden by a low-standing wall. The only unusual thing about them was that the floors and walls were padded with a soft, white, rubbery material.

Dean was relieved to see that Unit Five’s occupant wasn’t wrapped in a straightjacket.

The angel had his back to the window, curled up in the corner of the room in a pathetic heap. His dark wings were scruffy and scarred, bald in some patches and his hair was just as unkempt. His halo swirled with black, purple, blue, red and white in a confusing mess and every so often, his wings would twitch jerkily. He wore pure white clothes; the sign of a mentally unstable patient.

In Dean’s opinion, he didn’t look all that dangerous.

He stepped closer to the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the angel’s face, but there was a tug on his trousers and Dean looked down to find Samandriel staring up at him defiantly. Hesitantly, Dean leaned down and gathered the little omega into his arms and for once, the angel didn’t growl or flinch from him. He hoisted him onto his hip, allowing him to be at eye-level with the small window.

Samandriel gasped at the sight of his father and before Dean or Helen could stop him, he bashed his fist against the window. **_“Dad!”_**

Dean reeled backwards, dragging Samandriel away from the window as Helen attempted to catch his fist, but the damage was already done and Castiel was already on his feet, throwing himself across the room and banging on the door, silent but frantic.

Helen cursed under her breath and opened what appeared to be a slot for a food tray to enter at the bottom of the door.

 ** _“Calm down, Castiel. It’s only me. I just came to check on you,”_** she cooed in Enochian.

The door rattled as Castiel aimed a powerful kick at it. Helen clicked her tongue.

**_“No, Castiel, we don’t do that. We don’t break things.”_ **

Castiel smashed his fists against the door and Dean could see his wings flapping wildly, battering the wall and one-way window.

**_“Calm down, Castiel. You’re being childish.”_ **

Thus far, Dean had managed to keep Samandriel quiet by slapping a hand over his mouth, but the little omega finally lost his patience and sunk his teeth into the sensitive area between Dean’s thumb and index finger. Dean yelped and the boy smacked his wings into his face, uncaring that one was fractured. Dean dropped him and Samandriel bolted towards the door.

 ** _“Dad!”_** he screamed.

Helen caught him before he reached the door, clutching tightly to his uninjured wing as she squeezed her hand around his mouth firmly.

A hand shot out of the open slot at the bottom of the door, clawing desperately at nothing and Samandriel squirmed and fought against Helen’s grip to no avail.

Castiel’s wings slammed against the door again, over and over as he reached beneath it, but Helen held fast to Samandriel, managing to drag him away from the door.

 ** _“No, Castiel. You know I can’t let you see him until I can trust you,”_** said Helen sternly and Castiel banged his fist against the floor and flared his wings wide in front of the window, preparing for another powerful strike.

Samandriel began to cry in frustration, tugging against Helen’s grip as tears streamed down his face. The sound reached Castiel and he stretched his hand further under the door, fingertips straining towards his son and Dean could smell the flood of omega distress originating from the isolation unit. This wasn’t right.

“Open the door,” Dean ordered.

Helen shot him an incredulous expression, but Dean ignored her.

“Open the door,” he growled, letting alpha authority bleed into his tone despite knowing it was a jerk move. He snatched Samandriel from her grip and the boy whined fearfully at his scent. The sound triggered Castiel into banging viciously at the door again.

Helen narrowed her eyes at him furiously, but Dean was too overwhelmed by the amount of fear and distress coming from both Castiel and Samandriel, so he growled at her again. “Open the door!” he snarled.

She startled a little but eventually did as she was told and the second she unlocked and unbolted the heavy door, Castiel shot out of his Unit and into the security space, ignoring Helen once he saw Dean was trapping his son against his leg. Castiel flared his wings high and wide in an attempt to intimidate Dean as he advanced on him, but he paused when Dean released his son after a moment of assessing Castiel.

Samandriel raced towards his father and Helen shouted in alarm, but Castiel dropped to his knees and didn’t hide his tears when his son ploughed into him with a whimper. They clutched at one another frantically, Castiel curling his entire body and battered wings around his son as Samandriel sobbed openly, burying his face into his father’s neck as he scented him. Castiel held him tighter and peppered his hair with kisses and Samandriel babbled soft words into his ear, too quiet for Dean to understand.

Castiel listened on silently, nuzzling and touching and scenting every part of his son and Dean’s heart cracked painfully. He remembered the pain of losing his mother, of losing his father; it was a harsh finality. But to be forcefully separated from them for three months, not knowing if he’d ever see them again even though they were still alive…

Castiel carded shaky fingers through Samandriel’s wings, frowning when he brushed the bandage. He glanced at his son in question and Samandriel whispered something too quick and complex for Dean to translate before pointing towards him. Castiel met his gaze with a frown and now that he could see the angel’s face properly, hidden as it was behind a layer of scruffy beard, Dean suddenly understood why his name was so familiar.

Castiel was the angel the KPD had rescued from the Ketch case.

Dean clenched his fists as a torrent of anger washed through his body. He knew exactly what sorts of things this angel had suffered through.

“What happens if he can’t be socialised?” demanded Dean as he glanced towards Helen, who was looking entirely lost at the interactions between Castiel and his son, as though she had never entertained the notion that Castiel was violent because he missed his son and had the strong urge to protect him after everything he’d faced.

“He… If he can’t leave the isolation before six months have passed, he will be transported to a psychiatric hospital more equipped to deal with these sorts of cases. He’ll stay there until he is fit to undergo rehabilitation into society.”

“And Samandriel?” Dean scowled.

Helen shook her head. “He’ll stay here. We can’t allow his father’s violence to interfere with the potential for him to live a good life.”

“So, you’ll separate them forever, throw Castiel into some mental institution, which he’ll probably never get out of and you’ll jut hope that Samandriel doesn’t end up with another messed-up mentor?” Dean asked through gritted teeth. He was aware of Castiel glancing between them curiously and he began to wonder if maybe the older angel understood English.

“We can’t keep Castiel here,” sighed Helen. “He’s too dangerous and my staff don’t have proper training to deal with someone like him.”

“I’ll sign his papers,” Dean said before he got a chance to actually analyse his words. He blinked at himself in surprise.

Helen looked dumbfounded. “Excuse me?”

Dean shook his head, about to backtrack but then he cast his gaze to the two angels on the floor, watching as Castiel tugged Samandriel a fraction closer as though frightened they were going to be snatched apart again. Samandriel stared up at Dean with a mild frown, clutching onto Castiel’s shirt and all Dean could see was a younger version of himself, rebellious and defiant against everyone who told him what he couldn’t do.

He glanced over to Helen again, voice certain. “I’ll sign their papers. I’ll be their mentor.”

Helen shook her head rapidly. “Absolutely not. I cannot allow for you to take Castiel. He’s not fit to be anywhere near humans or demons or other angels-”

“I live on secluded farmland in a huge converted barn. I’m single with no roommates and no neighbours within at least a four-mile radius. I’m the perfect choice for them,” interrupted Dean firmly.

Helen’s mouth floundered open and closed for a moment before she snapped it shut and glared at him. “Mentoring is a big responsibility. You shouldn’t do it on a whim. Samandriel will take seven years of your life and Castiel might never be fit for release.”

Dean snorted. “Ten minutes ago, you were trying to slide Samandriel into my lap. I honestly don’t see what the problem is. You guys won’t have to deal with Castiel anymore and you know he’s going to a good home with his kid. Why the hesitancy?”

“And if he kills someone?” snapped Helen.

“Who’s he going to kill?” Dean scoffed. “My horse? Hardly anyone comes around and those that do, I’ll just tell not to.”

“And what if he kills you?” huffed Helen.

Dean chuckled. “I think I can handle myself. I’m trained for this sort of thing, remember? All you gotta do is hand me the papers.”

There was a long moment where Helen dragged her hand through her hair and flicked her gaze between Dean and the two angels. Eventually she sighed and slumped in defeat.

“Fine.”

 

*             *             *

              

“There’s something I should mention about Castiel,” Helen said when Dean was nose-deep in a stack of legal documents he didn’t fully understand, but was fairly sure amounted to ‘These two creatures are now your responsibility’. He glanced up when he’d signed the fourth copy of his signature. He hadn’t even reached Samandriel’s papers yet.

“Oh? What’s that?”

Helen had been standing in the corner of the room since Dean started signing, a tumbler of what appeared to be whisky clenched between her fingers. Now, she made her way over to the desk slowly, sliding into the leather chair opposite Dean’s.

“From what I’ve been told, Castiel faced a lot of… trauma with his old mentor,” she said carefully and Dean grimaced, recalling the report he had received regarding the house of horrors Ketch had been running. Helen continued, analysing his reactions. “I believe, at some point, he was strangled. Or at the very least, beaten – enough to cause some long-lasting damage.”

Dean didn’t doubt it.

Helen laced her fingers over the desk. “He’s mute.”

Dean blinked. “Mute?” he repeated.

Helen shifted uncomfortably, as though the very idea of discussing Castiel’s previous mentor made her sick to her stomach. “Vocal fold paresis, I was informed. Means his nerves are damaged enough for him to completely lose his voice. Sometimes affects his breathing too. And his swallowing, although it’s rare.” She took a long swig from her glass. “They always give the terrible things such fancy names,” she grumbled to herself.

Dean glanced down at the papers, hesitating. How was he supposed to communicate with someone who couldn’t talk?

Helen eyed him, corners of her mouth tugging down. “You’re reconsidering.”

Dean chewed his cheek and pressed his pen to the page, dating his signature, before moving onto Samandriel’s documents. Helen cocked an eyebrow and leaned back into her chair.

“If you go through with this, you won’t be able to just return them if they prove too much to handle. They’re not pets.”

Dean glared up at her and she matched his gaze steadily. “I’m aware,” he huffed, burying his nose in the documents again.

“This is stupidly dangerous,” she informed him and this time, he ignored her, focusing on signing all the papers.

Once he was finished, he stacked everything in a neat pile and checked his watch, wincing at the two hours that had passed since Gordon’s departure. Victor really would have his ass.

He stood and stretched the kinks out of his back before offering Helen a tight smile. “I’ll pick them up tomorrow when I’m off the clock.”

Helen gazed at him for a moment as though she didn’t believe him, but then she stood and offered her hand. “You don’t tell anyone you got them from me,” she reminded, because she didn’t want the public knowing that she had released a violent refugee into society. It was bad enough that she had to inform the government.

Dean nodded and shook her hand briefly before slinking out of the office and trying not to think about the overtime he would have to do to make up for the lost hours.


	3. Settling In

It was eight o’clock in the evening when he was finally released from work the next day; three hours later than what his rota stated. He was exhausted and annoyed from Gordon’s smug smirks and Victor’s stern glares all day. He wanted to go home, kick his feet on the couch, eat one of the limp TV dinners taking over his fridge and watch some _Doctor Sexy_. Unfortunately, he had a promise to keep.         

He arrived at Helen’s Hostel for Refugees at approximately quarter to nine and traipsed up to the front door. He rang the bell, closing his eyes in a brief moment of peace, before the door creaked open and the same demon from yesterday peeked her head around it, staring at him suspiciously.              

“I’m here to pick up… err... a couple of angels,” he said quietly, scratching the back of his neck.

The woman glowered at him for a moment before finally allowing him entrance and Dean paced through the hall, uncomfortable with the demon’s judgemental silence.              

He entered the living space and the first thing he noticed was that Samandriel was sat alone in the corner of the room, drawing. Dean frowned as he glanced around. He and Castiel had been separated again.              

Helen stood from the couch a moment later, abandoning her conversation with two demons. They tilted their heads at him curiously as Helen moved to greet him.              

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she admitted softly.

“I said I would,” he mumbled before sliding his gaze to Samandriel.              

“You can talk to him,” Helen said quietly. “Before we try to coax Castiel into your car.”

Dean frowned at her for a second, wondering why she was making Castiel’s move sound like such a monumental task. He let it go for the moment and cautiously made his way over to Samandriel. Samandriel spotted him before he came within five metres and he scowled and raised his wings in warning, clutching his sharpened pencil like a weapon.              

“Samandriel,” Helen chided and the boy pursed his lips and lowered his pencil, allowing Dean to edge closer.

“G blans niis de arp ol nalvage, blans ge g?” Samandriel asked lowly.              

Dean contemplated the sentence for a few seconds, trying to fumble through the translation. He could pick up words like ‘you’ and ‘have’ and ‘not’, but most of the phrase was lost on him. He stared at Samandriel helplessly.              

The longer he went without answering, the narrower Samandriel’s gaze became and he squeezed the pencil tighter.

“He asked if you’ve come to take him away,” Helen mumbled behind him.              

Dean blinked and crouched down, so he was at eye-level with the boy. **_“Yes,”_** he said. **_“You and your dad.”_**

Samandriel’s halo was a solid ring of silver as he flared his wings at Dean. **_“Go away,”_** he hissed and Dean added the new word ‘nalvage’ to his list of Enochian translations.              

 ** _“I’m trying to help,”_** Dean said softly, lowering himself to the floor so he could lean against the wall. **_“Promise.”_**

 ** _“That’s what the last alpha said,”_** growled Samandriel and Dean nearly lost his composure at the mention of Ketch, but he managed to relax himself.              

 ** _“He hurt you?”_** Dean asked gently.

Samandriel nodded warily and pressed himself a little further into the corner, attempting to put distance between Dean and himself.              

**_“And Dad. All alphas do.”_ **

Dean’s brows furrowed. **_“Not all alphas want to hurt you,”_** he said quietly, trying to make himself seem as unthreatening as possible.              

Samandriel actually bared his teeth at that. **_“Yes,_ all _alphas,”_** he snarled, eyes flashing dangerously blue as his halo plunged into the darkest of blacks. Dean recoiled in surprise, warily eying the pencil in Samandriel’s white-knuckled grip.              

“Samandriel,” Helen warned, but the boy ignored her.

 ** _“Stay away from my dad,”_** Samandriel snarled, brandishing his makeshift weapon.              

Dean held his hands up placidly. **“I’m your new-”** He cut himself off, not knowing the translation for the next word. “Mentor,” he said in English, hoping Samandriel might understand.              

Samandriel did understand. He bared his teeth and yelled a battle cry as he thrust the pencil at Dean’s face. Dean yelped and rolled away, catching Samandriel’s wrists when the angel pounced on him and slashed near his face again.              

Helen gasped and tried to prise the boy off Dean, but Samandriel slapped her away with a wing and aimed for Dean’s neck instead. Dean dodged the blow and managed to roll the boy over, until he was pinned beneath the alpha’s heavy weight, wrists above his head as he writhed and thrashed around in a desperate bid for freedom.              

“It’s either this or your dad gets thrown into a mental hospital!” snapped Dean, automatically switching into English in the wake of his exhaustion.              

He was aware of the surrounding demons and angels staring at him in alarm, some poised to flee at his angry scent and others watching on in horror, wondering if he was going to tear Samandriel apart. Helen was silent behind him, holding her breath as she waited for his next move, terrified of interfering in case she triggered him into wounding the little angel.              

Samandriel however, stared up at Dean with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

 ** _“What do you mean?”_** he whispered.              

Dean opened his mouth to explain, but paused upon the realisation that Samandriel had understood him whilst he was speaking in English. He scowled.              

“You understand English.”

Samandriel scowled back at him. **_“No,”_** he huffed, glancing to his pinned wrists. **_“You’re touching me.”_**               

Dean stared at him in confusion and Samandriel wriggled, testing the alpha’s grip and growling softly when he didn’t loosen his hold.              

“Tol Angels blans el micalz bab. Ol adgt om tol ham,” huffed Samandriel.

Dean blinked at the explanation blankly, understanding none of it. Samandriel groaned in frustration, letting his head thunk against the floor.              

“Angels and demons each have one unique ability, which their grace powers,” murmured Helen quietly, cautiously. “Samandriel’s is his ability to understand animals. All kinds of animals, including humans. It only works when he’s in contact with the creature.”              

Dean was beginning to realise he may have rushed into signing the papers. Between Castiel’s muteness and Samandriel’s Doctor Doolittle schtick, he had a feeling he was in for a tonne of surprises regarding his new charges.              

 ** _“Sorry to disappoint you,”_** hissed Samandriel, but his tone was wrong and his gaze looked almost… glassy. Had… Samandriel heard his thoughts? It made sense if he could understand animals – they couldn’t exactly talk.

For a moment, Dean wondered if he had upset the little angel, but then Samandriel flapped his wings in irritation, struggling desperately against his grip. Eventually, the boy fell limp beneath him, panting softly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Samandriel,” Dean whispered. “I really am trying to help you and your dad.”

The boy’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. **_“…Why?”_**               

Dean frowned and considered the question for a few moments before shrugging awkwardly. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess you remind me a little of myself when I was your age. And the stuff you two have been through-” He cut himself off before he could reveal that he was so involved with the Ketch case. “…You guys deserve a chance at happiness. Together.”              

Samandriel narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Dean, sensing that he was hiding something, but he must have believed the rest of Dean’s speech because he dropped his gaze after a short while and angled his head towards the wall, so he wouldn’t have to keep looking at the alpha.              

 ** _“Can you let me go now?”_** he mumbled and Dean blinked at his own hold on the boy.

“Sorry,” he muttered, releasing Samandriel and shuffling backwards, allowing the angel to sit upright again. He watched as Samandriel wrapped his arms around his knees, refusing to meet his gaze. Dean took in the sight of the small child with a fractured wing and a miserable expression and mused how lonely he seemed in that moment, huddled in the corner of the room with his knees pulled to his chest and his gaze boring holes into the floor.              

Dean wondered where the kid’s other parent was.

He frowned mildly and pulled himself to his feet before holding a hand out towards Samandriel. The angel glanced at it in confusion.              

“I’m going to see your dad. You coming?” Dean asked casually.

Samandriel stared back at him impassively and Dean shook his head apologetically at the mental lapse. “Castiel,” he said instead, wiggling his fingers a little in invitation.              

Immediately, Samandriel perked up and glanced at his hand as though conflicted about whether he should trust Dean. Eventually, the desire to see his father won out and he pushed himself to his feet, pointedly ignoring Dean’s outstretched hand.              

Dean let his arm fall limply to his side as he watched Samandriel shake his wings out and pull them to his back, high and proud. He marched towards the basement, not glancing back to see if Helen or Dean were following him. Helen sighed and shuffled after him and Dean allowed himself a small amused smile before trailing after the pair, hands shoved into his pockets.              

They pushed through locked doors and dimly-lit corridors until reaching Unit Five and when Helen opened the security door, Samandriel rushed inside, banging against the Unit’s main door.              

**_“Dad!”_ **

There was a bout of frantic scuffling and suddenly, Castiel was smashing his fists against the door in response, wings flapping wildly. Dean watched the older angel from the tiny one-way window, tilting his head curiously as Castiel’s halo flashed through a myriad of colours.              

Helen pursed her lips, a scowl settling over her aged features. “We should wait for back-up. I’ll radio them down and ask them to bring the restraints.”              

Dean had visions of a bunch of six-foot-tall power houses storming into Castiel’s room and slapping a muzzle on him as they restrained him with a couple of those dog snares that the pounds used for dangerous animals. He shook his head quickly as she reached for her radio.              

“Just let him out.”

Helen gave him an exasperated stare but Dean shrugged and stood his ground. “The guy’s more likely to comply if you treat him like a person.”              

Helen clenched her jaw but strode towards the door and unlocked it, sliding the bolt out of place and leaping out of the way when Castiel came barrelling out, heading straight for his son. She shifted nervously as she watched Castiel gather the younger angel into his arms and Dean truly couldn’t understand why she believed the bigger angel was a danger to the kid.              

Castiel fluttered his wings happily as he nuzzled and scented his son and Samandriel crawled into his lap eagerly, snuggling close and whispering soft greetings. They settled after a few minutes and Castiel wrapped his wings and arms around his son protectively, staring up at Dean in obvious wariness. Curiosity glimmered behind his eyes though, likely wondering why the same alpha from yesterday had returned, once again herding his son with him.              

Helen remained a silent presence in the corner of the room, her scent throwing out waves of discomfort and cautiousness.              

Once he realised that she wasn’t going to speak, Dean directed a small smile at Castiel. “Uh… hi. Can you… understand me?” He wanted to test his theory from yesterday. Did Castiel truly understand English or was he just a convincing actor?              

The omega gave a tight nod, lips drawing into a thin line.

Dean perked up, his smile widening. “Awesome.” He paused, wondering how best to proceed. “So… how would you feel if I said there’s a way for you to get out of here and see Samandriel all the time, like, whenever you want? And you get to live in a proper house with a lounge and a kitchen and a huge yard…” He trailed off when he noticed Castiel’s narrowed gaze and downturned mouth. “Uh… is that not something you want?”              

Castiel’s eyes raked over his frame, cold and calculating and it took Dean a moment to realise that the omega was sizing him up; working out the odds of overpowering him.              

Dean grimaced and lowered himself to the floor so they could look at one another on equal standing.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “The last thing you probably want right now is to come home with me.” He was rewarded by Castiel stiffening and pulling Samandriel tighter to his chest, wings flared wide in preparation to defend.              

Dean sighed and fell back against the wall, stretching one leg out in front of him as he collapsed to the floor fully. “It sucks, I know,” he mumbled. “But you’ve not really got much of a choice here. If you keep lashing out at everyone, you’re gonna be thrown into a psychiatric hospital and Samandriel will be carted off to someone’s house as part of the programme and you guys will never see each other again.”              

Castiel’s eyes widened in alarm and he snapped his gaze to Helen, betrayed. She backed further into the corner, clearly cagey around him. He frowned and turned his attention back to Dean, wings slowly falling into a neutral position and halo flickering between silver and purple.              

Dean rested an arm over his bent knee. “Look, I’m not a bad guy. I’m not the smartest guy in the world or the most patient. I have a tonne of childhood trauma that I refuse to talk about and one day I’m probably gonna die of liver failure or maybe diabetes from all the alcohol and burgers. But I’m not _bad_. I don’t have a torture dungeon or a box that I store teeth and fingernails in. I have a shiny car and a lazy horse and that’s… pretty much all there is to know about me.”              

Castiel tilted his head, listening silently and when Dean was finished, the omega dropped his gaze to his son and carded gentle fingers through white feathers speckled with black. He tilted Samandriel’s chin up to look at him and the boy stared at him with wide eyes. They gazed at one another for a few minutes, faces twisting through various expressions as Samandriel murmured a few words of Enochian every so often. Finally, Samandriel’s expression settled into a scowl as Castiel cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at him.              

“…So, what do you say?” asked Dean quietly when it was clear that they had finished their broken conversation.

Castiel flicked his gaze over to him, a cool look in his eyes. He nodded once and returned his attention to his son, intent on ignoring Dean.              

Dean licked his lips. “Okay, cool. Um… should I take you to the car, or…?” He watched the pair fuss over one another and realised he had no idea how to handle an aggressive angel and a fractious child. Would they follow him compliantly or would he have to practically wrestle them into the car? Would Castiel pick a fight with the first new person he saw? Would he try to claw Dean’s eyes out if he so much as touched Samandriel?              

From the corner of his eye, he watched Helen finger her radio but suddenly, Castiel rose to his feet gracefully and took Samandriel’s hand before glancing impatiently at Dean.              

Dean’s eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet. He gestured awkwardly to the security door. “You gonna be okay out there? You’re not gonna… attack anyone, right?”              

Castiel shot him a withering look and Dean scratched the back of his neck before ducking his head and glancing at Helen in a silent plea to unlock the door. Helen seemed just as lost as he did and she stared at Castiel warily before fumbling for the keys. The humans shuffled through and Castiel led his son out into the corridor, head held high and proud and just a little bit majestic as he glided after Dean.              

They trotted up the stairs to the ground floor and paused as Dean turned to Helen. “Is there a back entrance or something? So we won’t have to… y’know…”              

Castiel rolled his eyes and glanced down at his son, squeezing his hand to grab his attention. There was a moment of silence before Samandriel nodded and began dragging his father towards the main living space, causing Helen and Dean to glance at one another in alarm. They jogged after the pair, reaching out to stop them, but it was too late and Samandriel had already pushed through the door leading into the area where all the socialised angels and demons roamed. A dozen heads whirled around to focus on the strange angel in white clothes and their eyes widened in shock. They had all heard the tales of the psychotic angel in white who lived in the basement.              

Castiel resolutely ignored their stares, although he did tug Samandriel a tad closer to his side as they paced through the room, wings raising in warning for everyone to back off.              

They made it through the living space without incident and Helen and Dean shared a stunned look before Dean raced after the pair, offering a rushed wave to Helen as he went. Once outside the hostel, Castiel turned to Dean, waiting for him to point out his car, so the alpha took the lead and led the way to his most prized possession.              

Dean had expected the angels to just fling the door open, slide into the car and slam the door shut like most people did when he offered them a ride, so he was pleasantly surprised when Castiel paused to admire the Impala’s glossy finish for a moment before opening the door gently and allowing his son to climb inside. When he closed the door, he did so carefully, before rounding the other side and getting in himself.              

Dean felt a smile pull at his lips and he plopped into the driver’s side, breathing life into the engine.

 

*             *             *

 

As they padded into the converted barn, Dean was acutely aware of the deafening silence that lay within its walls. He glanced around his house almost disappointedly, noting the thick layer of dust blanketing everything it could adhere to. The faded walls somehow looked uglier now that he had invited a couple of strangers home and the smoke stains devouring the floor made the place look neglected and forgotten. His lounge appeared barren and bereft of colour and his sofas sat sadly in one half of the room, facing a small TV that looked out of place in the huge space. As he closed the door, another flake of plaster and paint tumbled off the wall and splatted unattractively onto the floor.              

Dean grimaced and turned to the angels, hoping they wouldn’t notice the disrepair, but Castiel and Samandriel were already glancing around the room warily, as though wondering what kind of horror show they had just stepped into.              

Discouraged by their expressions, Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “You can take your pick of the bedrooms. Just don’t pick the second door on the right – that one’s mine.” He offered them an awkward smile as he gestured to the corridor that led off from the back of the lounge.              

His house was pretty easy to navigate; a hallway with six equal-sized rooms beside one another – three on the left of the corridor, three on the right and these included four bedrooms, a bathroom and a study. At one end of the corridor lay a window and a couple of old-fashioned armchairs, at the other end lay the living room, which had been built perpendicular to the kitchen.              

Castiel placed a hand on Samandriel’s shoulder and steered him towards the hallway, keeping an eye on Dean as he did so. Once they disappeared around the corner, Dean closed his eyes and slumped against the front door. After a few moments, his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast and he trudged towards the kitchen, staring miserably at the clock that read twenty-past ten. He pulled three TV dinners out of the fridge tiredly and wondered if he was a bad host, but ultimately decided he didn’t care as he shoved the plastic trays one-by-one into the microwave.              

Once the food was heated, he plated it and deposited it on the coffee table opposite the couches, briefly mourning the loss of Lisa’s dining table. Then, he wandered down the hallway and stood in the centre, amusing himself by guessing which of the closed doors Castiel and Samandriel were behind.              

“There’s food on the coffee table,” he stated loudly to the peeling walls.

He waited a moment but frowned when there was no answer. “It’s not great food, but it’s okay,” Dean reasoned with the floor boards.              

Once again, there was no answer, so Dean thrust his hands into his pockets and rubbed the toe of his shoe over a particularly dark stain on one of the floor boards. “It’s pasta,” he told door number three.              

When the quiet began to itch at his mind, he shuffled out of the hallway and slumped onto the couch, tucking into his microwaved meal.              

Two hours later, Dean switched the TV off and retired to bed, two plates of pasta remaining on the table, cold and untouched.

 

*             *             *

              

The sun rolled into the early morning sky and with it, rose Dean. His dreams had made him tense and uneasy, consisting of savages with black wings and a lust for human blood. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and trudged into the bathroom, relieving his bladder before beginning the monotonous routine of brushing, showering, drying, searching for clothes and questioning his life choices as he stared at his ash-spotted walls.              

Once he’d completed all that, he fished in his jacket pocket for his phone and dialled his most recent contact.

“Dean? Since when are you up at the ass-crack of dawn?”              

“Sammy, I’ve done something really stupid,” Dean mumbled, for once unbothered by his brother’s chipper voice at such an early hour. He was probably just about to set off on one of his morning jogs.              

Immediately, Sam sobered. “What happened?”

Dean collapsed onto the bed and stared through his window, focusing on the distant stables and the lone occupant who was most likely still asleep. “I joined the mentor programme.”              

Sam paused but when his voice next filtered through, it sounded guardedly happy. “That’s great, Dean.”

“No, not great,” huffed Dean. “I got an omega angel and his kid.” He closed his eyes. “…They’re pretty messed up.”              

“Sometimes it takes time to earn their trust,” said Sam patiently, as though he was speaking from experience (which Dean knew for a fact that he was). “Obviously, you liked their bio, right? So, focus on that. Do stuff they like, show them you’re cool. You don’t know what these guys have faced back on their own planet; they might have been disowned by their family or lost their home. After all, we don’t truly understand their culture and-”              

“They’re the angels we rescued from the Ketch case.”

There was a long beat of silence, before finally, “Crap.”              

Dean laughed humourlessly. “Yeah.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “The kid, Samandriel… he tried to stab me with a pencil yesterday when I told him I was going to be his new mentor. He told me all alphas ever do is try to hurt him and his dad.”              

“So, he hates you,” Sam deadpanned and Dean huffed in agreement.

“I can’t even communicate with the kid properly because he doesn’t speak English and you know what my Enochian’s like.”              

He could practically hear his brother’s frown. “Your Enochian’s not that bad. Sure, some of the pronunciations need work and you could do with broadening your vocabulary, but it’s better than most.”              

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam had a defensive streak a mile wide. “Whatever. Anyway, the kid doesn’t speak English and the father, Castiel, he just doesn’t speak. Period.”              

“Like… can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t,” sighed Dean. “Vocal folding paralysis or something. Hostel owner thinks strangling.”              

There was a long pause before Sam spoke again, his voice quiet and intense as he spoke through gritted teeth. “We need to win Ketch’s trial.”              

Dean frowned at his feet. “We’re doing our best,” he murmured. “We’ll get him.”

“What he did to them… what he made them do…” Sam whispered. “Dean, you realise what Castiel’s been through? What Samandriel’s been through? I’m surprised you were allowed to bring them home. I’m surprised they’re socialised.”              

“They’re not,” mumbled Dean. “Castiel was in an isolation unit, separated from his kid. They said if Castiel didn’t learn to stop lashing out at the staff within the next three months, he would be tossed into some psychiatric hospital, never to see his kid again.”              

He could practically smell Sam’s alarm and he braced himself for the barrage of questions he was sure to receive.

“You mean to tell me that you’re housing a violent psychopath in the next room over?” hissed Sam. “Dean, are you crazy? You’re telling me that the only real contact these guys have had with humans is… Ketch? And you thought it was a good idea to bundle them into your car and bring them home? Seriously? What is wrong with you? Why would you do that?”              

Dean was beginning to ask himself that question more and more. “I don’t know,” he groaned. “Maybe I just… felt sorry for them? The guy was sitting in the corner of this padded cell in the basement, all alone and miserable and he hadn’t seen his kid in three months. I managed to sneak Samandriel down there and the second he caught wind of it, the guy goes absolutely nuts and starts pounding on his door and shoving his hand into this little food hole at the bottom, desperate to… I don’t know, touch his kid? I made the owner open his door and she didn’t like it, but she unlocks the door and suddenly, Castiel’s on the floor, holding his kid and they’re both scenting each other and trying to get closer and…” He sighed and flopped back onto the bed. “It was the most depressing thing I’ve ever seen. Even their scents made me want to get out of there.”              

Sam listened quietly and once Dean was finished, he sighed softly. “I get that you feel sorry for them, but having them in your house is dangerous. They need professional help. They need therapy and someone who has time to watch them twenty-four-seven. They’ll need medication and proper socialisation classes and someone to teach them English. They can’t stay with you, Dean. You can’t help them through all that trauma.”              

Logically, Dean knew that his brother was right, but his mouth turned downwards anyway and he sat upright. “They need each other, Sam. If you’d have seen what I saw in that basement yesterday… They need to be with one another. That won’t happen if Castiel is tossed into some psychiatric hospital and Samandriel is shoved into the programme.”              

“You can’t give them the care they need,” Sam said gently.

Dean scowled. “I can try,” he huffed because he was starting to get a little offended that Sam could take care of four angels and yet everyone was telling Dean that he couldn’t even look after two.              

“I’m just saying there’s probably a reason that Samandriel and Castiel were separated,” Sam argued lightly. “Are you sure Samandriel’s safe?”              

Now Dean really was offended and he wasn’t entirely sure why. “Yes, I’m certain he’s safe,” he said through a clenched jaw. Sam hadn’t seen the way Castiel had held onto Samandriel last night or the morning before. He hadn’t smelled the distress and fear coming from them both. Castiel was protective of his son and Dean couldn’t understand why no one could see that.              

“You need to think about this,” protested Sam. “I mean, you can barely deal with your own feelings about Mom and Dad and Lisa. How are you going to help Castiel and Samandriel after everything they’ve been through?”              

Dean growled softly, letting Sam know that he had gone too far with that last comment. Sam dutifully fell silent and Dean closed his eyes, frustrated and angry at his brother for even thinking of bringing that up.              

He was correct, of course, but Dean didn’t really feel like acknowledging that.

“I’ll call you later,” he said lowly just as Sam began to apologise.              

He ended the call before Sam got past the first ‘sorry’.

Dean stood and massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He collected himself after a moment and wandered into the hallway, heading for the lounge. He froze at the sight of Castiel and Samandriel perched on one of the couches, prodding at the cold pasta from last night with slightly scrunched faces. When Samandriel raised the fork to his mouth, Dean leaped into action, racing towards the pair and snatching the plates from them.              

“Don’t eat that!”

Samandriel flinched, immediately hiding his face in Castiel’s side as his halo erupted into an intense ring of white. His wings were pinned to his back as he curled in on himself, attempting to look smaller than he was. Beside him, Castiel stiffened, his own halo shining white as he automatically wrapped his arms around his son, one wing curled around him protectively as he flared the other at Dean in warning. His eyes were wide and he stared at Dean like a deer about to be hit by car.              

Dean blinked at the reaction and stared down at the plates of soggy, limp pasta.

“They’re from last night,” he said carefully. “I’ll make you something fresh.”              

Samandriel began to tremble a little and Castiel held him tighter, still staring at Dean as though he was about to smack him.              

…Which actually made a lot of sense considering where he had come from.

Dean grimaced and stood to his full height. These guys deserved a proper meal for once. He knew for a fact that Ketch had fed them crap, and that was on the days he felt like feeding them at all and hostel food wasn’t exactly known for its quality.              

He shuffled off into the kitchen, head low and embarrassed as he dumped the old pasta and began pulling ingredients out of his fridge for a full-cooked breakfast. If there was one thing that Dean Winchester was good at, it was cooking.              

Thankful that it was Saturday and he had time to devote to making such a large breakfast, Dean set about frying bacon and eggs and making hash browns from scratch. He refused to buy frozen hash browns.              

Half an hour later, the sounds of sizzling pork and the mouth-watering aroma of browned onions and spicy sausages swirled around the room, drowning out the steady ticking of the clock. Dean hummed softly as he worked; the _Metallica_ song sounding slightly off-key and lacking any discernible rhythm, but hummed enthusiastically nonetheless.              

As he began to plate the bacon and eggs, batman apron hanging from his neck and a smile on his face, Samandriel and Castiel peeked their heads into the kitchen warily, having been enticed in by the delicious smells and they raised their eyebrows at the sight of the alpha in all his domestic glory.              

Oblivious, Dean swung his hips a little as he upgraded to wordless singing and made his way to the oven. He slipped some oven mitts on, littered with tiny Iron Mans, and launched into an animated guitar solo as he opened the oven door and slid the sausages out. He knocked his hip against the door, shutting it and rolled the sausages onto the plates. Next, he flipped the hash browns onto the plate along with some lightly cooked tomatoes and mushrooms (because he did eat some fruit and veg, thank you very much, Sam) and then slipped back over to the oven as a second passionate guitar solo burst from his lips. He pulled out three black puddings (because pig’s blood or not, that stuff tasted gorgeous) and tossed them onto the plates at well.              

Once he was finished, he abandoned his mitts and looked over his creations like a proud mother.

He picked two plates up and was about to carry them into the living room when he noticed Castiel and Samandriel staring at him in stunned silence. Dean blinked, face flushing pink as he looked down at the Batman apron he was still modelling.              

“Uh… how long have you guys been standing there?”

Castiel glanced at the notepad and pen beside the fridge and grabbed it, folding back Dean’s shopping list. He scribbled something down before ripping the page out and handing it to Dean.

              

_Two guitar solos and a hip wiggle_

Dean barked out a surprised laugh and grinned at the angel. Castiel offered him a subdued smile in return before dropping his gaze and despite the act of submission, Dean found himself a little more hopeful about the mentoring programme.              

Samandriel glanced between them, puzzled and Castiel gently took his hand. The boy tilted his head for a moment before snorting in amusement and glancing at Dean, who winked playfully and shot him a bright grin. Unlike his father, Samandriel’s lips quirked into a tiny smile as he continued to watch Dean.              

The alpha offered them their breakfasts and wiggled his hips a little as he grabbed his own meal and began fishing around a drawer for some cutlery. When he next turned around, Samandriel’s smile had widened slightly and even Castiel looked faintly amused as he kept his gaze low.              

They filtered out into the lounge, the angels taking one couch and Dean taking another. He subtly watched them take their first bites, cutting his sausage to make it seem like he wasn’t being a total creep.              

He startled at Samandriel’s quiet whimper and was about to ask if something was wrong when suddenly, the boy began shovelling food into his mouth at an impressive speed, as though he hadn’t eaten in a week.              

Castiel clicked his tongue reproachfully and Samandriel slowed down a fraction and all Dean could think of was when his own mother used to clear her throat at him when she thought he was doing a good impression of a pig. Then Castiel took his first bite and the omega closed his eyes, halo leaking gold amongst the steady stream of purple and silver that seemed to be a constant fixture.              

Dean felt his chest fill with pride at the familiar colour. Gold meant joy; he knew that much. He bit back a gasp when the air abruptly flooded with the scent of sea salt and French vanilla and the barest hint of tangy mandarin. He scented the air unabashedly, breathing in as much of that entrancing aroma as he could and when he next looked at Castiel, the angel’s face was a bright shade of red to match his striking cherry halo.              

Dean felt his lips curve into a grin. “Dude, you’re allowed to be happy. It’s okay.”

Somehow, Castiel’s face reddened further and he shovelled bacon into his mouth, rolling his eyes when Samandriel haughtily clicked his tongue at him.              

Dean bit back a laugh and began his own breakfast, scenting the air subtly every so often as he watched gold wisps dance around both angels’ halos.              

**_“You guys want something to drink?”_ **

They blinked at him, surprised by his sudden switch in languages and he shrugged casually. **_“My Enochian isn’t great, but I can try. It punches Samandriel being confused all the time.”_**

Castiel raised his eyebrows as Samandriel snorted.

 **_“Yeah, your Enochian does suck.”_ **              

Dean frowned and tried to work through his own words, attempting to figure out what he had said wrong. From the corner of his eye, he caught Castiel scowling at his son.              

When he couldn’t work it out and no correction was forthcoming, he shrugged and turned to the angels again. **_“Juice? Coffee? Tea?”_**

 ** _“Juice,”_** grunted Samandriel until Castiel raised an eyebrow at him and he tagged on a mumbled, **_“Please.”_**

A smile threatened to pull at Dean’s lips so he turned to Castiel. **_“One for juice, two for coffee, three for tea, four for other.”_**               

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise and he held up three fingers. Dean nodded and set his half-eaten breakfast on the coffee table. **_“One for milk, two for sugar.”_**

Castiel held up one finger and then placed his hands in his lap and Dean smiled. **_“Milk tea with no sugar,”_** he recited and when Castiel nodded, a little dumbstruck, Dean headed into the kitchen again.              

When he returned, Samandriel had already scarfed down his child portion of breakfast and was eying Dean’s plate calculatingly. He startled when Dean set his juice on the table, beside Castiel’s tea and his eyes blew wide when Dean picked up his own plate and began transferring sausages and bacon and mushrooms onto his empty one.              

Dean returned to the other couch and finished the lone sausage and egg left on his plate and Samandriel stared at the alpha for a few long moments before digging into the new food. Castiel gaped at Dean and eventually, Dean turned to him and offered him a small smile.              

“He’s hungry,” he said softly, as though that justified why he had given the little omega food from his own plate instead of getting him something from the kitchen or just leaving him to deal with his hunger until dinner.              

Castiel lowered his gaze slowly and Dean flipped the TV on.

 

*             *             *

 

Dean had informed both angels that the house was as much theirs as it was his and as such, they had freedom within its grounds. Upon hearing this, they seemed to go out of their way to avoid him.              

They had been roaming the fields and poking around the stables and barns for the entirety of the afternoon, soaking up the sunshine whilst they could. Dean had no idea how long it had been since Castiel had last seen sunlight, but he appeared to be basking in it for as long as he could – a little like a cat seeking out the warmest sun spot in a house. Dean had been observing the angels from the kitchen window, hoping he didn’t look like a weird stalker as he watched them inspect the rows of fruit trees that were just beginning to blossom with tiny flowers in preparation for Summer. He washed their plates from breakfast as he watched them follow the broken fences around fields that once held placid animals, and he took his time in drying them as his gaze followed the angels into one of the creaking barns that housed a small, rusting milking unit that hadn’t been used in sixteen years.              

At seven o-clock, Dean realised he had achieved nothing all day; too busy staring at the angels. He set to work on cooking up some tacos and once the mixture was sizzling and drenching the room in the divine scents of paprika and garlic, Dean set the stove to simmer and pottered outside on his quest to find his wandering guests. As he strolled through the fields, he mused how long it had been since he had made tacos. He was so accustomed to TV dinners and frozen food that he was surprised he bought anything fresh anymore. He slipped his hands into his pockets and mused how he would have to make an effort to cook now he had guests. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought – he rather enjoyed cooking from scratch and he used to do it a lot when he was with Lisa; he just couldn’t be bothered doing it for only himself every night.              

A wave of melancholy swept over him at the thought of his ex-fiancé. He still didn’t understand what he had done wrong.              

He halted at the sight of Castiel and Samandriel lingering by the stables. They were stroking Hera, the quiet Clydesdale that was the lone occupant of the once busy stables. She was a fairly typical Clydesdale, with long white legs and a blaze of white down from her forehead to her muzzle. The rest of her was chestnut-coloured, barring her tail and mane, which were black. She had a thick coat and fluffy feet and there were specks of grey spattered throughout her entire form, revealing her age. She had occupied that same stall for twenty-one years and she had been one of the best listeners Sam and Dean had ever known.

Dean winced as he realised that he had forgotten to turn her out that morning. He jogged over and she caught sight of him, shooting him a doleful look as though she had been severely neglected for the past fifteen years. It worked in making him feel guiltier and he ducked inside the tack room to grab her halter and lead rope.

When he re-emerged from the storage room, she was still staring at him with miserable eyes and lowered ears and she slowly rested her head on the door in a pathetic display. She pawed gently at the bottom of the door and Dean rolled his eyes.

“I know, girl. I’m sorry.” He fished some pony nuts out of his pocket, aware that the angels were regarding him curiously. Hera’s ears twitched at the sound of his rummaging.

He flattened his palm in front of her nose, offering her a few treats and she shot him another despondent look before fluttering her lips over his hand and vacuuming up every last crumb, somehow managing to do so without taking her soulful eyes off his face. It was as though even eating was a chore.

Dean huffed out a laugh and unbuckled the halter, but paused when he remembered the angels standing silently beside him. He turned to them and held out the halter in offering.

“Ever haltered a horse?”

Castiel shook his head, gently placing a hand on Samandriel’s shoulder in order to translate.              

Hera was a tall horse, around 1.7 metres from hoof to withers, and her head stretched even higher to the point where Dean struggled with her if she put up a fuss. Add that to her 1900 pounds of pure muscle and Hera was a horse not to be trifled with.              

Fortunately, she was usually very relaxed, so Dean handed the halter to Castiel and a lump of pony nuts to Samandriel. They stared at their prizes in confusion.              

Dean smiled and opened the gate, gesturing for the angels to follow him. Hera watched them dismally, pawing at the ground in a pitiful display and Dean huffed out another laugh before showing Castiel how to orientate the halter. After a few moments, Castiel approached the towering Clydesdale and cautiously slid the halter over her nose and ears. Hera allowed him to buckle it and Dean gestured for Samandriel to offer her some treats for her compliance. Samandriel opened his palm in the same way Dean had, watching in fascination as Hera bowed her head and lapped up the pony nuts gently. Once they were gone, she snuffled at his face, begging for more and Samandriel laughed and rubbed her cheek. She nudged his wing a few times in a demonstration of light grooming and Samandriel grinned and patted her neck.              

Next, she turned to Castiel, sniffing at his clothes before rubbing her chin against a wing. Castiel smiled softly and smoothed a hand down her temple. Dean watched the angels fuss over Hera for a little while, an amused grin lighting his features before he reached out and dug his knuckles into her withers. Immediately, Hera stretched her neck out, eyes half-lidded as her lips twitched involuntarily.              

“That’s her massage face,” Dean chuckled as Castiel and Samandriel watched the huge beast turn into a pile of putty beneath his hand.              

He snagged her lead rope and handed it to Castiel and he elected to ignore the angel’s flinch when he grabbed his hands in order to show him how to hold the lead rope correctly.              

“Give a horse too much rein and it’ll make a fool out of you,” commented Dean. He jerked his thumb at Hera. “She’s pretty good though.”              

He should have known saying those words would jinx his luck.

They led Hera out of the stable, Dean’s guilt growing at the sight of the empty hay net hanging on the side wall and Castiel keeping a fairly loose grip on the rope. They made it to the overgrown field beside the grove of fruit trees when Hera finally decided to have some fun with her new handler.              

She suddenly took off, galloping towards the fence that lay in front of the fruit trees and Castiel automatically tightened his grip on the rope in a misguided attempt at restraining her. He was immediately yanked off his feet and both Samandriel and Dean gasped at the angel-shaped bullet that shot through the long grasses in a beeline towards the rotting fence.              

“Let go of the rope!” Dean hollered as he sprinted after the mare and the angel she was enjoying dragging through the mud.              

When she jumped the fence, there was no longer an angel attached to her rope and she trotted to a halt and began scouring the floor for apples, oblivious that it was the wrong season for them.              

Dean skidded to a stop beside the stunned-looking angel, white clothes caked in grass and soil stains and wings looking like they had started a fight with a bush.              

Castiel’s wings had never been healthy-looking to begin with and now, to add to the bald patches and numerous scars, some of the old wounds had reopened and were oozing deep red blood. More feathers had been ripped out and others lay broken or torn, undoubtedly painful or at the very least, irritating to the muscles beneath.              

Dean grimaced as he crouched down and pressed his fingers against a particularly large gash that was pouring out blood and suddenly, Castiel bristled and slammed the opposite wing into the side of his face, making him tumble to the floor. He grunted when Castiel rushed to straddle him, resting his entire weight on Dean’s stomach as he pinned the alpha’s wrists above his head with a fiery glare and an intimidating flare of his mauled wings.              

Dean wrinkled his nose at Castiel’s sour, fear-laden scent; so unlike the happy aroma at breakfast and he allowed himself to fall limp beneath the angel’s grip, attempting to show that he wasn’t a threat.              

Castiel watched him suspiciously, likely confused why he wasn’t fighting back, so Dean gazed earnestly at the omega and hoped he understood that he had no intentions of hurting the angel.              

“You’re bleeding,” Dean said softly and Castiel frowned but didn’t release him and Dean had to stamp down on every instinct he had that was telling him to defend himself against this new threat.              

“Let me help,” he murmured, lying still beneath the angel as he tried not to growl. His face began to throb and he had a feeling he would be sporting a bruise tomorrow.              

Finally, Castiel released him, standing to his full height whilst still straddling him to ensure he didn’t attempt to lunge for the angel. When he stepped away, he moved to Samandriel’s side and the little omega babbled worried questions in Enochian, quiet enough for Dean to be unable to translate.              

Dean stood and dusted himself off, noting that Castiel’s wings were still flared; halo a sea of purple and silver as he kept a wary eye on the alpha. Dean sighed and turned to Hera, who was nosing at the trees now in search of fruit that didn’t exist.              

He hopped over the fence, jumping when one of the beams collapsed behind him and he sighed again in dismay before grabbing Hera’s lead rope and guiding her towards the gate.              

“I’m mad at you,” he mumbled to her without much heat as the angels watched him in silence. He kept a tight grip on her rope and she seemed to realise she was in trouble, so she followed him obediently into the field of the month, her head low and her gaze pinned to him.              

He removed her headcollar and made his way back to the angels, movements slow and deliberate and when he reached them, Castiel’s wings had relaxed somewhat although his halo betrayed his wariness with its silver shine. Dean thrust his hands into his pockets and gestured towards the house and they followed him at a distance, quiet and cautious.              

The moment he stepped through the back door, the thick, repugnant stench of burned meat wafted to his nose and he froze for a second, sweat beading around his collar as horrific memories of his childhood bounded back to him. He shook himself out of it and cursed under his breath, racing to the stove to turn it off and douse the fire that had claimed the contents of the pan. He threw a damp towel over the mess and closed his eyes for a few seconds in defeat, wallowing in the dull pain of his throbbing cheek.              

Then, he took a breath through his nose and opened his eyes before marching out of the kitchen and heading for the emergency first aid kit he stored in the bathroom, under the sink. When he re-emerged from the bathroom, Castiel and Samandriel were hovering in the living room uncertainly and they stood a little straighter at his return.              

“Sit,” he ordered, gesturing to the couch and flicking his gaze to Castiel.

The angel hesitated but eventually his shoulders sagged and he trudged over to the couch, plopping into it comically as he kept an eye on Dean. Samandriel took the seat beside his father, gaze suspicious as he watched Dean.              

Dean set the first aid kit on the coffee table and retrieved a bottle of cleaning alcohol from it. He grabbed a clean, unused cloth from the kitchen and dampened it with the alcohol.              

“This is going to sting,” he warned and Castiel barely had time to process his words before Dean was pressing the cloth against the large gash in his right wing.              

The angel sucked a sharp breath through his teeth and then he was on Dean, shoving him into the coffee table and fanning his wings wide as he grabbed the alpha’s collar and drew his fist back. Dean caught the fist before it made contact with his face and the coffee table slid backwards, causing them both to slam against the floor. Castiel bared his teeth, halo a blinding mixture of white, purple and black and the hand on Dean’s collar slid to his throat instead.              

Finally losing his patience, Dean jerked his knee into the angel’s stomach and Castiel grimaced, allowing Dean to flip their positions until the angel was pinned beneath him. He practically sat on Castiel and the angel’s fist shot out again, but Dean caught it and then gripped the opposite one when it came too close to wrapping around his throat again. He wrestled Castiel’s arms above his head, squinting a little as the angel’s halo burned pure white.              

He buckled when agony erupted in his left side, just below his ribs and he managed to catch a glimpse of Samandriel drawing his leg back for another powerful kick. He threw a hand out to stop him, but then Castiel rammed his freed fist into Dean’s jaw, following the punch with a disorientating smack from his wing. Dean crumpled to the floor with a groan and Castiel staggered to his feet, holding his wing at a strange angle as he backed away from the alpha and ushered his son out of the lounge.              

Dean heard their bedroom door slam shut and he closed his eyes, trembling slightly with every painful inhalation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, criticisms and the like are welcome :)


	4. Finding a Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at bottom

Morning rolled around and Dean found himself staring at his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. His left cheek was a canvas of purple to match the area below his ribs on the same side. His face was sore and tender and his eye felt partly closed due to all the swelling. He had spent the better part of the evening with a bag of frozen peas crushed to his face, unable to locate the will to eat anything and as such, his stomach was now berating him.              

Dean heaved a sigh at the thought of confronting Castiel and Samandriel today. Yet, they both needed a hospital – Samandriel for his fractured wing and Castiel for… whatever Hera and Dean had done to him.              

Dean glared at himself in the mirror. Why had he signed their papers?

He pulled his clothes on and shuffled out of the bathroom towards the lounge. He was greeted by the sight of Castiel poking gently through the first aid kit they had abandoned last night as Samandriel tucked himself neatly into a corner of the couch as he mumbled softly to his father. They both froze at his entrance and Dean took a proper look at the older angel, noting how his wings looked even worse with all the dried blood coating their feathers. The wounds were darker, some looking infected as they trickled off-colour substances, yet Castiel didn’t even look at them, his halo an intense white as he stared at Dean with wide eyes, gaze lingering on his bruised face.              

Dean’s mouth drew into a thin line at the filthy, tacky wings and he stepped towards the angel but paused when Castiel flinched and backed away from him.              

Dean was beginning to suspect that a white halo meant paralysing fear.

He held his hands up placatingly and ducked his head a little. “Your wings look infected,” he stated quietly. “Let me help.”              

Castiel shook his head, backing up a bit further and Dean dropped his hands in frustration.

“C’mon, man. That can’t be comfortable. At least let me call a doctor.”              

Castiel frowned and shook his head again, gaze flicking briefly to Dean’s sprawling bruise before dropping to the floor as he swung his wings behind his back in the picture of subservience. Dean briefly cast his gaze to Samandriel and the boy visibly winced and pressed himself further into the couch, ducking his head low as his halo flashed white.              

The corners of Dean’s mouth pulled downwards and he sighed softly. “I’ll get you some breakfast,” he mumbled before slinking off into the kitchen and doing just that. He returned with two generous bowls of cereal, juice and tea – a far cry from yesterday’s feast, but still appetising in its own way after having no dinner. Dean placed everything on the coffee table before fetching his own breakfast and the three of them sat on opposite couches in silence as they ate.              

Every so often, the angels would glance at him covertly, scrutinising him for a couple of moments before hiding their faces in their bowls again and Dean allowed them to, too weary to acknowledge their suspiciousness. Once their bowls were empty, Dean collected them without a word and began washing up, staring through the window numbly and watching the ghost of his mother stroll amongst the fruit trees, pointing out the tiny blossoms to him and his brother. The ticking of the clock dragged him back to reality and he began drying the dishes and spoons mechanically, barely registering his own actions as he returned them to the correct drawers and cupboards.              

He knew taking two abused angels into his home would prove difficult. He knew what they had suffered at the hands of Ketch and to be completely honest, he didn’t blame them for their mistrust of him or their violent reactions to situations that anyone else would think unremarkable. However, that didn’t mean that his bruises didn’t ache, nor did it mean he knew how to act around the angels to show that they could trust him. Sam was right – they needed professional therapy, not a lonely guy who couldn’t even fix his own life, let alone try to mend someone else’s.              

His gaze lingered on the window again and a couple of minutes later, Dean felt a strange prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He turned around to find Castiel hovering in the doorway, observing him silently.              

Despite wanting, more than anything, to be left alone with his depreciating thoughts and painful memories, Dean stood up straight.              

“Anything I can do for you, Castiel?”

The angel stared at him for a long moment before disappearing from the kitchen and Dean shook his head in exasperation. He was surprised however, when Castiel returned a few seconds later with the bottle of cleaning alcohol and the unused cloth. He bowed his head slightly as he cautiously held the items out for Dean to take.              

Dean blinked at the angel, eyes flicking to his halo and its dancing purple wisps set amongst a background of white.

Slowly, Dean reached for the bottle and cloth and stared at them for a moment before lifting his gaze to Castiel as the angel shifted his weight awkwardly.              

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” he murmured softly. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should drop a hint that he knew about the angels’ past. On one hand, it could anger Castiel or scare him off, on the other, Dean didn’t want to hide such a big secret from the angels he was supposed to take care of. After all, he was pretty involved in Ketch’s case and the angels were bound to find out sooner or later, especially considering his brother was acting as prosecutor in the guy’s trial.              

He swallowed thickly and steeled himself for another punch as Castiel stared at him sceptically.

“I’m not like him,” Dean whispered righteously. “Not like Ketch.”              

Immediately, Castiel stiffened, wings flinging wide and he took a step backward as his halo burned an intense white. His eyes flashed blue for a second before dimming and then his fists clenched and he glared at Dean angrily.              

“I didn’t want to hide it from you,” Dean hurried to explain before he earned himself another agonising bruise. “You probably already know I’m a cop, but I was part of the team that arrested Ketch. Whilst half my team was rescuing you, I was with the other half trying to pin Ketch down and get him busted for… well… you know.” He gestured vaguely to Castiel, a pained expression on his face. “I’m just… sorry we didn’t work everything out sooner.”              

Castiel had calmed immensely during the explanation and he slumped a little and dropped his gaze again. Dean risked a step forward, ignoring Castiel’s sharp flinch.              

“I’m really sorry you had to go through five years of that,” he murmured sincerely. “I can’t imagine living that kind of life.”              

Castiel glanced back at Samandriel, who was perched on the couch, looking at him in worry and confusion. When Castiel turned around, Dean’s eyes widened at the single tear rolling down his cheek. He automatically took a step forward.              

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean to-”

Castiel threw a hand up to halt his apology and shook his head rapidly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. Then he took a breath and stalked into the lounge once more, dropping onto the couch and stretching his wings out as he bowed his head. After a few moments, Dean realised Castiel was waiting for him, so he followed the angel to the couch and stood a little distance away from him, gauging his mood. When Castiel lowered his head further, refusing to look at him, Dean carefully kneeled before him and began wetting the cloth with the alcohol.              

“This is going to sting,” Dean said again, waiting for Castiel to nod this time before applying the cloth to the largest gash on his right wing.              

Once again, Castiel stiffened and his hand shot out to grip Dean’s outstretched wrist. Dean held his breath, eyes widening as he waited for the angel to plough into him again, but Castiel took a steadying inhale and pried his own fingers away, head still facing the floor.              

Dean continued warily, cleaning the crusted blood and purulent discharge from the feathers until they looked less like they’d been involved in a car crash. He moved onto the other wing, gentle and slow and as he poked through the feathers, he noticed more scars decorating the skin; old and deliberate or newer and jagged. Interspersed between some of these were circular burns and more tragic burns that bore different shapes, as though someone had spent time creating them.              

Dean wasn’t sure about the latter shapes, but he had seen enough domestic abuse cases to know what cigarette burns looked like and he grit his teeth and inwardly cursed Ketch for everything he had done.              

“Do they hurt?” Dean asked after a minute of cleaning some particularly stubborn dirt from Castiel’s romp in the field.

The angel hesitated but eventually nodded, eyes still on the floor.              

Dean dropped the cloth and lightly trailed his finger over one of the burns, grimacing at its leathery texture. Some looked pretty deep.              

Castiel tensed as Dean brushed bare fingers over his scarred wing and after a brief minute, he gently knocked Dean’s hand away and shook his head again. Dean said nothing as he watched a couple of water droplets drip onto Castiel’s clothes.              

“Let me do the backs?” he asked quietly and Castiel nodded, still refusing to meet his gaze.

As Dean shifted around the back of the couch, Samandriel silently made his way across the room and took the seat beside his father, cuddling into his side in a show of support and possibly a search for comfort. Castiel held him close and nuzzled into his hair, scenting his son gratefully.              

Dean watched them with a lump in his throat and he allowed them a moment together before coughing.

“I’m gonna start on the backs,” he said, subtly warning him about the sting and Castiel steeled himself as Dean set to work.              

As he cleaned, he watched Castiel’s halo fade from white and purple to silver and purple and Dean counted it a win that the angel had calmed his terror into simple wariness. Dean could deal with wariness; he could reason with wariness. Fear was a lot harder to talk down.              

Eventually, it was apparent that Samandriel and Castiel were having one of their strange half-mental, half-verbal conversations and Dean listened to Samandriel’s Enochian idly, trying to pick out words he understood.              

After a while, he packed the bottle away and tossed the cloth outside the washing machine. Samandriel and Castiel tracked his movements until he turned to them and raised an eyebrow.              

“What?” he asked.

Castiel touched Samandriel’s shoulder and the boy tilted his head before turning to Dean and very slowly saying, in perfect English, “Thank you.”              

A small smile pulled at Dean’s lips and he shifted his gaze to Castiel. “You’re welcome.”

Thinking that the end of the matter, Dean grabbed the first aid kit and was about to return it to the bathroom, when Samandriel blurted out, **_“I’m sorry.”_**               

Dean paused and whirled around to face him with a questioning gaze. Samandriel ducked his head, much in the same way Castiel had done earlier.              

 ** _“I’m sorry,”_** Samandriel mumbled again. **_“For kicking you.”_**

Dean furrowed his brow and was about to reply when Castiel suddenly bowed his head as well and Samandriel muttered, **_“So is my dad.”_**               

Dean stared at them, wondering why they kept bowing their heads, when he caught the tiny thread of white flowing through their halos and it hit him that they thought they were going to be punished. For a minute, Dean doubted himself and he shook his head – maybe they were just shy? But the thought niggled at the back of his mind until he frowned and slowly made his way over to Samandriel.              

The boy flinched at his approach, all traces of his cocky attitude vanished and Dean crouched in front of him and reached out to pull the feathers of his wings apart, revealing the skin beneath. The skin was far less damaged than his father’s but Dean scowled at the few cigarette burns he found. He growled lowly.              

What kind of sicko burned a child for fun?

Samandriel whimpered at the sound and his wings began to tremble as he squeezed his eyes shut. Beside him, Castiel’s head whipped up and his wings began to rise, gaze laser-focused on Dean.              

Dean gently tilted Samandriel’s chin up until the boy was forced to look at him and when he did, his eyes flooded with fear and anticipation until they began to glaze over with unshed tears.              

 ** _“I will never hurt you,”_** Dean promised, voice barely a whisper. **_“I’ll make him pay for what he did.”_**

It was the truth. Seeing the physical and psychological damage that Ketch had inflicted on both angels only strengthened Dean’s resolve to get the man convicted. He couldn’t be allowed to do this to anyone else.              

Samandriel stared at him with wide eyes and Castiel paused in his plan to protect his son from Dean. They both looked stunned, so Dean stood, gently stroked the top of Samandriel’s wing in hopes of reassuring him, then disappeared into the bathroom with the first aid kit.

 

*             *             *

 

At lunchtime, Dean threw some sandwiches together and watched as Samandriel practically inhaled his. The boy seemed perpetually hungry. Castiel ate far slower, carding his fingers through Samandriel’s unbroken wing every once in a while, and smiling slightly whenever the boy paused long enough to look up at him and murmur a few food-muffled words.              

Dean observed the irritable twitches of Castiel’s wings and the subtle frowns as the angel attempted to align his wings in a way that wouldn’t make them throb or itch. After an hour of minute corrections and various expressions of annoyance, Dean finally took pity on the guy.              

“Want me to call a doctor over?”

Castiel startled and snapped his gaze to Dean and the alpha leaned back casually against the couch. “You’re clearly in pain.” He nodded over at Samandriel. “We’ll get him to take a look at Samandriel too.”              

Castiel slid his gaze to his son, contemplating the idea for a moment before nodding carefully.

Dean quirked his lips, pleased and grabbed the phone.              

A couple of hours later, Doctor Naidu arrived. Her glossy black hair was tied into a neat bun and a pair of thin-rimmed spectacles rested upon the bridge of her nose, magnifying sharp, brown eyes. Her lips were thin and her scent was typical of a beta’s, with natural woody tones and fresh thyme. Despite looking fairly young, she bore a no-nonsense attitude and spoke with clipped, precise words.              

The moment Dean invited her in and explained his concerns over the angels’ wings, she marched over to Samandriel and, without so much as a warning, grabbed his broken wing and began peeling off the bandage.              

Samandriel automatically jerked backwards, trying to press himself into the corner of the couch as he struggled against her grip, but the doctor held firm, unwrapping his bandage as though she couldn’t tell (or maybe didn’t care) that she was making him uncomfortable. Before Dean could inform her of the angels’ skittish nature, Castiel bared his teeth and raised his wings threateningly and when the beta ignored him, he smacked her over the back of a head with a wing. She yelped and skittered backwards, holding her aching skull with one hand as she glowered at Castiel, but the omega surged to his feet, swinging his wings wide and shielding Samandriel from view.              

Doctor Naidu’s eyes widened and she retreated one step as she took in the impressive being before her, halo an ominous swirl of black and purple and dark feathers just as intimidating. Dean stepped between the pair before Castiel took it upon himself to break a few bones.              

“They uh… they’ve come from a bad place. You need to be really gentle with them. They’re… not used to touch,” he only half-lied. He knew the angels were accustomed to being touched, but unfortunately it had never been a particularly pleasant experience for them.              

Behind him, Castiel grit his teeth and glared at the back of Dean’s head. The doctor eyed him warily before shifting her gaze to Dean.              

“I see… How long have they been in your care for?”

“Couple of days,” Dean shrugged. “Thought I’d better get their wings checked out before anything heals in a way it’s not supposed to.”              

The doctor nodded slowly and flicked her gaze to Castiel briefly before focusing on Dean again. “Do they… understand English?”              

“The little guy doesn’t but Castiel does. He just doesn’t talk.”

Doctor Naidu raised an eyebrow. “Emotional trauma?”              

“Physical,” Dean corrected. “Officers think strangling.”

Behind them, Castiel flapped his wings, a thick scowl resting on his features. Both beta and alpha ignored him.              

“Strangling?” repeated the doctor, looking far more interested in the angels now, as though they were a pair of test subjects to be observed. “What were they thinking? Larynx damage? Vocal folds, maybe?”              

Dean nodded. “Is that treatable?”

The doctor paused, contemplative as Castiel clenched his fists and twitched his wings vigorously at them both. When they paid no attention to him, his face soured.              

“Depends how damaged the nerves are. Vocal therapy can help sometimes, but if you’re saying he physically can’t talk at all…” The doctor shook her head. “I’d suggest a laryngoscopy to see if there’s anything we can salvage. Even then, the prognosis doesn’t look too good. Sounds as though it’s not something we can fix. Nerves can’t be synthesised.”              

Dean nodded in understanding and suddenly, Castiel stamped his foot harshly on the wooden floor, startling both humans.              

They turned to him in query and he glowered back at them angrily, crossing his arms over his chest.

Doctor Naidu glanced at Dean and he shrugged helplessly, not understanding Castiel’s abrupt temper tantrum. Non-plussed, she returned her attention to Castiel.              

“I’m going to check your son’s wing,” she said very slowly, as though speaking to a particularly dense child and even Dean frowned a little at the tone. Castiel’s scowl deepened and he collapsed onto the couch again, looking petulant.              

The doctor was slower in unwrapping Samandriel’s bandage this time and the boy watched her unhappily, fingertips sliding across the couch cushions to brush his father’s. Castiel’s lips twitched at the contact and Dean watch Samandriel relax inch by inch as Castiel presumably projected his thoughts into the boy’s mind.              

A minute later and Doctor Naidu had freed the wing and was smoothing her fingers over the splint Dean had taped to the radius. She smiled in amusement. “It’s setting fine.”              

Dean breathed out a sigh of relief but then, the doctor frowned and she began pulling the feathers apart and inspecting the skin beneath. She recoiled in surprise.              

“He’s been burned,” she said in no small amount of horror.

Dean’s mouth drew into a grim line. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”              

She abruptly turned to Castiel and began raking her fingers through his wings, frowning at ugly scars and gashes and tragic burns. He stiffened at her touch and dug his nails into the arm of the couch and when she didn’t notice, he stamped his foot again.              

She paused and glanced at his face for a brief moment before grabbing his arm and rolling his sleeve up.

Dean idly thought he should probably buy the angels some clothes since they had been wearing the same set for two days. He should probably check if they had any belongings at the hostel as well.              

His musings dissolved at the sight of Castiel’s arms, littered with scars and burns and… were they bites?

Doctor Naidu stared at the marks in silence before grasping Samandriel’s arm and rolling his sleeve up. The boy bristled and tried to pull away, but the doctor wrestled his sleeve up and found more cigarette burns and a winding scar stretching from just above his wrist to the inside of his elbow.              

A growl left Dean before he could stop it and Samandriel threw himself into Castiel’s side, burying his face into his father’s shirt. Castiel wrapped his arms around his son and knocked the doctor away with a flick of his wing. She stumbled back a few paces and he glared coolly at her, chin resting atop Samandriel’s head as he pulled him to his chest.              

 ** _“_** ** _Make her stop touching me,”_** Samandriel whimpered and Dean barely caught the words, but once he translated them, his stomach dropped and his heart ached for the kid.              

Doctor Naidu made towards the pair again, but Dean cleared his throat.

“I think that’s enough, Doc. Pretty sure you’ve seen all there is to see. Any treatments you could offer?”              

Doctor Naidu shot him a confused frown but eventually backed off and turned her attention to Dean. “A lot of these injuries are quite old. Other than creams and aloe vera, maybe silicone gel for the burns, there’s not much else I can do. As for the pain… I can possibly prescribe an anxiolytic or maybe a low-dose analgesic, but unless they opt for surgery, options are pretty limited since they’ll have to be on medication for life.”              

Dean frowned thoughtfully. He had a stable job and enough money to get by with, but he wasn’t sure if he could afford the surgery that would improve the appearance of the burn marks, let alone two rounds of it. Still, he couldn’t just let the angels suffer if there was treatment available.              

He tossed his gaze over to the pair. “Would you be interested in surgery?”

Castiel tightened his grip on Samandriel and shook his head rapidly before glowering at the doctor distrustfully.              

Dean sighed quietly. “Drugs it is,” he mumbled and the doctor nodded and pulled a wad of paper from her bag. She found a blank piece and scribbled something down before handing it to Dean.              

“Take this to the drugstore. One tablet twice per day – preferably at breakfast and again at dinner. Silicone gel after showering and sun cream factor 30 on the burns if it’s a bright day. As for the open wounds, I can hydrogel them and pad them until they heal. If the bandages get dirty, take them off and rewrap them. You seem to already know how to do that,” she said, gesturing to Samandriel.              

Dean blinked at the slew of information but finally nodded and flicked his gaze to Castiel, who was holding Samandriel to his side and narrowing his eyes at the doctor. “Uh… maybe I should pad him up. Might save you another wing to the back of the head.”              

Doctor Naidu glanced at Castiel and nodded slowly. She reached into her bag and slid out a half-used tube of gel before handing it to Dean. Next, she handed him a small pile of gauze pads, tape and bandages and Dean placed them gently on the coffee table as she began to zip her bag up and hoist it over her shoulder.              

“Thanks, Doc. How much do I owe you?”

She relayed the price and Dean wandered into his room to write out a cheque. She thanked him and promptly left and once the door clicked shut, Castiel and Samandriel relaxed, looking up at Dean curiously.              

Dean padded back to the coffee table and began sifting around for the gel. “Y’know… it’s considered rude to smack people on the back of the head just because they’re doing something you don’t like.”              

There was a pause before Samandriel answered, Castiel’s arm still wrapped tightly around him.

**_“It’s rude to touch people without their sibsi.”_ ** ****

Dean’s brows furrowed. “Sibsi?”

Samandriel frowned, trying to think of another word, but Castiel glanced over at him and the younger angel tilted his head before turning to Dean and slowly saying, “Consent.”              

Dean added another word to his list of Enochian.

 ** _“True,”_** Dean hummed, flipping into a language both angels could understand. **_“But she was a doctor. That’s what doctors do.”_**

**_“In the Silver City, healers ask before they touch.”_ **

Dean cocked an eyebrow. **_“The Silver City?”_**

Samandriel scrunched his nose. **_“You call it ‘Heaven’.”_**

Dean uncapped the tube of gel. **_“Right.”_** He paused and glanced at Castiel. **_“Do you consent to me touching you?”_** He waved the tube around for emphasis and a tiny smile quirked Castiel’s lips as he nodded. He stretched a wing out and Samandriel watched, fascinated as Dean began squeezing droplets of gel into the largest gash. He moved onto another tear and then another and Samandriel shifted when Dean required access to the other wing.              

 ** _“Does it hurt?”_** Samandriel asked curiously.

Castiel shook his head and watched Dean reach for the gauze. The alpha began taping the gauze to Castiel’s wing and once he was finished, he stood back to survey his handiwork. The omega looked a little like a patchwork quilt.              

Samandriel giggled under his breath and Castiel rolled his eyes good-naturedly before Dean glanced at the younger angel. **_“You’re next,”_** he said, brandishing the bandages.              

Samandriel snapped his mouth shut and Castiel’s smile widened a fraction.

Dean crouched before Samandriel and reached for a wing but paused mid-way. **_“Do you consent to me touching you?”_**               

Samandriel’s eyes widened in surprise and he nodded and Dean briefly looked to his halo to find it was shining a dim yellow, flecked with purple. He returned his attention to the wing and gently began to rewrap it.              

 ** _“So… purple halo. Pain?”_** he asked as he carefully extended the wing.

Samandriel nodded silently, gaze tracking the pattern of the bandage.              

**_“And yellow?”_ **

Samandriel blinked and placed a hand near his halo, eying the dull glow of it against his skin.              

“Ulcinin,” he said and Dean shook his head, indicating he couldn’t translate the word.

Castiel placed a hand over Samandriel’s and there was another pause before the little omega pronounced slowly, “Content.”              

Dean’s lips twitched upwards and his scent filled with pride, making the angels bite back amused smiles of their own.

Once Dean had finished bandaging, he stood back and allowed Castiel to check his work. Satisfied, the older omega shot Dean a grateful look and the alpha began gathering the leftover supplies to store in his bathroom. He also picked up the prescription and glanced at it for a moment before turning to the angels.              

 ** _“I’ll go out today and get…”_** He barely managed to wave the prescription in his full hands. **_“Will you be okay on your own for a couple of hours?”_**

Castiel straightened and nodded solemnly and Dean bit back a chuckle as he made his way into the bathroom. Technically, he probably shouldn’t be leaving the angels alone when one had been deemed dangerous and unfit for life in human society and the other kept finding creative ways to injure him, but for some reason, he felt as though he could trust Castiel and Samandriel not to run away. It was a strange sentiment considering how many bruises they had gifted him, but his instincts told him to trust them anyway.              

So, ten minutes later he sauntered out of the front door and didn’t look back.

 

*             *             *

              

The hours passed quicker than Dean anticipated. Whilst he had intended to nip to the drugstore and return straight after, he found himself taking a detour to the mall. There, he purchased clothes, toiletries, fresh food and a few art materials for Samandriel, since the kid had been drawing when Dean collected him from the hostel. As he was leaving the mall, he spotted a stuffed, grumpy-looking cat perched in a toy store window and he had no idea what ten-year-old kids liked, but the thing was fluffy and kind of cute and he was pretty sure he had seen that face on the internet more than once (usually when he got bored at work and started sifting through YouTube and hoping his boss wouldn’t notice). Before he knew it, he had the cat tucked under his arm and he was sliding into the driver’s seat.              

When he finally returned home, he cocked an eyebrow at the sight of Castiel and Samandriel hovering by Hera’s door, talking softly with her. He mentally berated himself for forgetting to let her out again. At least he had remembered to feed and water her that morning.              

He trundled into the house with his heavy load, determined not to make two trips and then sagged when he realised that he had no way of closing the trunk without another. He returned to the Impala, locked her and then padded over to the angels. Once again, Hera stared at him with mournful eyes and Dean snorted and rolled his.              

“Yeah, yeah. I’m a terrible horse owner.” He snagged her headcollar and some treats from the tack room and came back to find Castiel and Samandriel watching him in a mirror image of the previous evening. Dean glanced down at the headcollar before slowly sliding his gaze to the older omega.              

“Did you…?” He held the tack out in offering and Castiel hesitated for a moment, shifting his gaze to Hera warily, but then he relaxed and Dean was surprised when he nodded.              

The angel took the headcollar and waited for Dean to unbolt the door. Once again, Dean fished some pony nuts out of his pocket and dumped them in Samandriel’s waiting palm. Castiel slid the headcollar on much more smoothly and Samandriel rewarded Hera with a handful of treats as Castiel gripped the lead rope firmly.              

Dean watched the pair, impressed. He had expected them to be nervous around Hera after the disaster of the previous evening, but as they made their way out of the stable, Castiel kept a tight grip on the rope and Hera was content to follow the seemingly confident angel.              

They deposited her in the field and closed the rusting gate behind them and Dean couldn’t help but smile at the angels, oddly pleased.              

“Horses respect confidence. Good job,” Dean commented and it didn’t skip his notice how Castiel perked up a little at the praise.              

“I got you some stuff,” he added as they wandered over to the house. “Clothes and toothbrushes and junk.”

Castiel blinked at him as though the alpha buying him a toothbrush was the most outlandish thing he had heard in years. Dean led them into the living room, towards the heap of bags that he had abandoned near the front door. He peeked inside a few before handing two to the older omega and three to Samandriel.              

“Just a few t-shirts, sweaters and jeans and a pair of fancy trousers and buttoned shirt in case, I don’t know, we go somewhere nice?” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as the angels peered into their bags, bewildered. Samandriel slid the grumpy cat toy out and stared at it with a disturbed expression.              

Dean chuckled embarrassedly. “Uh… you don’t have any toys so I just thought…” He trailed off, remembering that Samandriel couldn’t understand English, but Castiel stared at him strangely before slowly grabbing his son’s hand. Samandriel blinked and turned to Dean with a wary expression before carefully placing the cat on the floor and rummaging in the bag again and retrieving a sketchbook and a small pack of professional coloured pencils. He stared at them with wide eyes before snapping his gaze to Dean and opening his mouth, then sealing it shut again. He dropped his gaze to the floor, wings pulling close to his back as he shifted his weight uncomfortably.              

Put out by the odd reaction, Dean instinctively began to ramble. “I don’t know if you guys have anything back at the hostel that you want me to pick up, but I just thought it would be nice to have a new wardrobe and I know it’s not much, but it’s better than wearing the same set of clothes, day after day and-”              

Castiel held a hand up and Dean’s mouth clicked shut.

The omega opened his mouth and then he quickly closed it as his face transitioned through a series of frowns and various expressions of irritation before finally settling on defeat. He dropped his bags on the floor and promptly left the lounge.              

Dean felt his shoulders sag as he stared at the discarded gifts and he sighed softly at Samandriel’s wide-eyed, slightly nervous staring as the boy realised that he was alone with the alpha.              

Suddenly, Castiel strode into the room with Dean’s shopping list and a pen and he scratched at a blank page before tearing it off and handing it to Dean.

 

_We own nothing. Samandriel’s clothes were borrowed from the hostel. Mine were used to mark me as a mentally deranged psychopath. Our only belongings were taken from us by our previous mentor._

_Thank you for your kindness. It was not necessary, but we appreciate it._

 

Although Castiel’s handwriting was neat and elegant and so much more precise than Dean’s scruffy scrawl, his words sounded bitter and broken and Dean frowned at them unhappily.              

“You’re not a psychopath,” Dean huffed. “You’ve just… been through a lot.” He scowled. “And your old mentor was a dick.”              

Castiel frowned and began scribbling on a fresh sheet and Dean was glad he kept pocketing the department note pads because he now had a horde of them in one of the kitchen drawers and he had a feeling Castiel would use at least half of them by the end of the month.              

The angel tore off another page and passed it to Dean.

 

_So everyone keeps saying. It’s amazing that everyone seems to know what I’m thinking and feeling without ever having to ask me. You all clearly have more experience with human alpha-inflicted physical and psychological abuse than I do._

 

Dean winced at the harsh words and lifted his gaze to the annoyed angel. Castiel frowned at him sourly, corners of his mouth drawing downwards and wings stiff either side of him. His halo was a storm of black and purple and Dean decided that black wasn’t a happy colour.              

“You’re right,” he mumbled quietly. “I have no idea what you’re feeling. But I did read the reports; I worked for weeks to get Ketch arrested. I know the sort of things he made you do and I understand why you don’t trust anyone, particularly alphas. That’s what I mean when I say you’ve been through a lot.”              

Castiel grit his teeth and Dean watched his feathers begin to puff out in anger. He scribbled furiously over a new page, eyes narrowed and shoved the end result into Dean’s hands with a little too much force.

 

_YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING_

 

Dean visibly recoiled from the message, the letters bold and overpowering from Castiel’s fury and when Dean glanced up at the angel, he was seething, wings rising and halo a sinister black.               

Before Dean could attempt to calm him down, Castiel put pen to paper again and when he handed Dean the next page, his gaze was cold and spiteful and Dean held back a shudder.

 

_You understand nothing about the humiliation we faced. You understand nothing about being seen as an object for twenty-four hours each day for five years. You understand nothing about having every last part of yourself stripped away until you are nothing but a cowering, bloodied mess, who can’t even voice his own agony. You understand nothing of pain or the feelings of failure and hopelessness as you watch an alpha you despise stub his cigarette out on your son. You understand nothing of fear as your next ‘client’ requests to see your son before you enter the room. You understand nothing of anger and hatred when your son returns from the room with tears in his eyes, which he tries to hide from your ‘mentor’ because he refuses to look weak in front of the alpha who owns you._

_That’s just what we faced on Earth. Imagine what we were running from back home._

 

Dean’s eyes were wide as he read the long, caustic message and when he finished, he swallowed down the bile that slithered up his throat and banished the graphic images of the horrors both angels had suffered from his mind. He closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself and then he gazed into Castiel’s eyes with as much sincerity as he could muster.              

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right: I don’t understand. I can’t imagine living like that and honestly, I don’t want to.” He licked his lips. “But I’m gonna make sure that Ketch gets locked up for a very long time. He’ll never touch you guys again. I know it’s not much of a consolation after… everything, but it’s about the only thing I can do of any use.”              

Castiel seemed to sag at the admission and he etched out a new message and held it out for Dean.

 

_What do you want from us?_

 

Dean stared at the words for at least a minute, trying to make sense of them. Eventually, he admitted defeat and frowned at the angel. “What do you mean?”              

Castiel scowled and wrote a response, jaw clenched with anxiety Dean had only just noticed.

 

_You signed our papers after being told that I was dangerous and couldn’t be released. You obviously want us for something. You know our history. You know my previous ‘skill’. What do you want from us?_

 

Dean felt nauseous at the implications. He shook his head and found he couldn’t meet Castiel’s hard gaze.              

“I don’t really know why I signed your papers. I guess I couldn’t stand the idea of you being thrown into some mental hospital and Samandriel never getting to see his dad again.” He ducked his head lower, memories of his own childhood filtering through his mind. “I kinda know what losing a parent does to a kid.”              

Castiel continued to frown at him and Dean squirmed under his cool gaze. Whoever said that omegas could never intimidate alphas had clearly never met Castiel.              

“I don’t want anything from you, man. Or your kid. I just… want you to get better. Learn to trust people again, y’know?” He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling nervously. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m not smart, I have no idea how to take care of a kid, I never went to college, most of my high school teachers thought I was a clown, I drank before I was legally allowed to… I’m not exactly the ‘model teacher’ for you guys. I mean… I grew up farming and my dad taught me how to fix cars and when that all went to crap, I decided to be a cop. That’s it. That’s my entire life in, what? Three sentences? I’m not exactly a mysterious guy.”              

When he was finished, Castiel narrowed his eyes and handed Dean a note with one word on it.

 

_Liar_

 

Dean stared at the four neat letters for a long time before an irritated frown settled over his face. What did Castiel mean by that? Did he think Dean was making his pathetic life story up? Did he think Dean had ulterior motives as to why he had signed up to be a mentor? Did he think Dean was just another Ketch wanting to make money off him?              

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he huffed.

If it was possible, Castiel’s gaze seemed to grow colder and he passed a new note to Dean.

 

_No one does anything for free. An alpha doesn’t take two omegas into his home without expecting something out of it. I don’t care if you buy us clothes or cook for us or pretend to care about our injuries – you obviously want something from us. And if you think I will let you lay even one finger on Samandriel in order for you to satisfy some sick alpha urge-_

Dean crumpled the note before he could finish reading it and threw it on the floor.              

“Alright, you know what?” snapped Dean, making Samandriel flinch and Castiel recoil. “I get that you have issues, but you don’t get to call me a freakin’ paedophile just because you’ve met a few bad alphas in your life, okay? You don’t get to go around hitting people because something bad happened to you in your past!” He jabbed a finger in Castiel’s direction, watching the omega jerk away from him with wide, terrified eyes and a bright white halo. “And stop turning into this pathetic mess whenever I so much as raise my voice! You’ve just been giving me a death glare and chewing me out for being an insensitive douchebag and now you’re cowering away from me like a new-born foal. Stand up for yourself, man! You clearly have a lot to get out!”              

Castiel paused, blinking at Dean in confusion for a moment before slowly straightening and frowning at him warily. His halo dimmed to silver, once again flecked with purple and Dean crossed his arms with a thick scowl.              

“I’m not gonna punish you for yelling at me,” he growled. “In fact, I’m not gonna punish you at all, no matter what you might think of me. So, say what you wanna say and we’ll have a proper argument about this without you shaking like a leaf and spewing that awful sour scent.”              

Castiel’s eyes widened a fraction and his arms fell limply to his sides, wings drooping comically. Dean would have laughed if he wasn’t so angry and exasperated all at once.              

Beside them, Samandriel was glancing between them both, perturbed by the sudden change in tone of the argument.

“Go on,” Dean snapped. “Get it all out.”              

Castiel startled a little, then scowled and began hashing out a new message and although Dean found the whole scenario absurd and slightly surreal since he had to wait for Castiel to physically write his thoughts out, it was somehow therapeutic knowing that they had to listen to each other’s arguments before replying. Usually, people tried to speak over one another, but when one person couldn’t speak, it was difficult to interrupt.              

Castiel tore the page out and handed it over to Dean.

 

_In all honesty, I’m not entirely sure how to respond to that._

 

Dean stared at the note for a long while before sliding his incredulous gaze to a pouting angel with sagging wings.              

“…You… you don’t know how to respond to me telling you to argue with me?” Dean asked with raised eyebrows and the angel opened his mouth, shut it again and shrugged helplessly. Dean huffed out a laugh before he could stop himself and Castiel’s expression grew grumpier and even more indignant.              

“Dude, just… tell me what’s on your mind,” said Dean, softer this time. “I know I’m a knot-headed alpha and we’re all violent and stupid but just… relax and say whatever’s weighing you down. You obviously need to talk to someone and whilst I’m probably not the best therapist in the world, I can nod my head in all the right places and quote a bit of Freud.” He offered the angel and half-smile and Dean wasn’t sure he had said the right thing, but Castiel stared at him, searching for something before he dropped his gaze and shuffled over to the couch and began writing.              

Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets and took the other couch, still not entirely sure what was happening but willing to let it play out and see where it got him.              

He bit back a smile when Samandriel wandered over to sit beside his father, the cat’s tail clutched in one hand as he peered over his father’s arm to read whatever he was jotting down. Despite not being able to read English, Samandriel was doing a good impression of tracking every word.              

Castiel finished after a few minutes and passed the message to Dean, clasping his hands over his lap and concentrating on the floor once he didn’t have the notepad to hold.

 

_I am not a violent person. I know everyone at the hostel was scared of me, but I was terrified and in pain and they wouldn’t let me see my son. They said I was dangerous and they took him away from me and I didn’t know what they were going to do to him, so I lashed out. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but my son is the only thing I care about in my life and I will do anything to protect him, even if I have failed spectacularly at that so far._

_Having no voice is frustrating. People speak down to me or talk about me as though I am too stupid to understand them. They all believe that they know what is best for me without having actually taken the time to ask me first. Today, I watched you speak for me. I watched you tell the healer that I was fragile and needed gentle handling as though I was a dumb animal. I watched the healer speak to you about possible treatments and surgeries and not once did either of you speak directly to me. When the healer finally spoke to me, she treated me like a fledgling – spoke in simple, slow words as though I had no hope of understanding her._

_Everyone seems to be under the impression that because I have no voice, I have nothing to say. They seem to believe that I don’t have emotions or feelings or a brain. They see my papers and my tattered wings and they write me off as a traumatised, mentally-ill patient with aggressive tendencies and a tragic past. They call me broken and weak and unfit for society and they assume I cannot hear them or comprehend their words. They never ask how I feel or what I have been through – they assure me that they understand what I have suffered through and they lock me away and tell me they are just trying to help. When I react to their words or try to get their attention in the only ways that I am able to, they ignore me until I am forced to make a bigger gesture – one they cannot ignore. When I do so, they label me as ‘violent’ and tell me that it is wrong for me to behave in such a way._

_You are the first person to give me a pen._

 

Dean stared at the page for a long time before placing the pad in his lap and smoothing a hand over it. Then he turned to Castiel and very deliberately gazed into his eyes.              

“You’re not broken or weak and I’m sorry for speaking for you. I won’t do it again. I’m also sorry that I didn’t realise it was upsetting you. I didn’t mean to speak down to you.”              

Castiel stared back at him, eyes glassy and shining with what appeared to be a thin layer of water. Dean said nothing as the angel closed his eyes and looked away.              

“But you gotta help me a little too. I mean, you’ve gotta give me clear signals if I’m saying or doing something you don’t like. Or at least teach me the signals you’re already using. I’m not used to angel body-language; I can barely understand humans!” He smiled lopsidedly and Castiel glanced at him curiously, gaze more focused.              

“And if it’s a communication issue that’s bothering you, we can work around that. Maybe you could take signing lessons? I’d come with you or you could teach me when you get home. Samandriel could get involved. I could learn how to read your wings and your halo. And you’d always have pen and paper.” Dean shifted forwards on his seat, smile a little wider. “You not having a voice doesn’t have to be a problem.”              

Castiel’s eyes widened, wings hitching a fraction higher as he gaped at Dean. Then he frowned, rolled his wrist and began writing again, so Dean waited patiently for him to pass him the new message.

 

_Why are you helping me? I have treated you abhorrently._

 

Dean chuckled quietly and shrugged a shoulder. “Well, you’re clearly smart even though I have no idea what you did back on Heaven or, uh… The Silver City. You’re fluent in English and you use a bunch of fancy words like ‘abhorrent’ and ‘comprehend’. You can write your feelings down in neat, curly letters and I can’t even talk about mine. You’ve somehow managed to psychoanalyse your own reactions to people and you’re pretty patient with me considering you’ve not had great experiences with alphas before. You’re strong and determined when it comes to your kid and you might think you’ve failed to protect him but honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever met a better father. It’d be a shame for no one else to see all that just because they can’t look past the voice thing.”              

Castiel swallowed thickly, gaze fogging up again and Samandriel frowned up at his father worriedly, gently placing a hand on his bare wrist. There was a long moment where Samandriel’s gaze clouded over and Castiel glanced down at his son and then, the young omega stared up at Dean in awe and gripped his cat a little tighter.              

Dean smiled gently at them both. “Look, you don’t have to trust me, okay? If I were you, I probably wouldn’t trust me either. But… maybe I can prove myself to you guys? Show you I’m not that bad? I want to help and maybe it’s weird that I don’t want anything in return but I promise I’ll never hurt you or treat you like a couple of ‘dumb animals’.”              

Castiel cocked his head to one side, regarding Dean carefully before he nodded and wrote a short message in his pad.

 

_Apologies for your face._

 

Dean blinked at the comment and gently touched his cheek, grimacing when it throbbed dully. He snorted in amusement.              

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Just… don’t do it again. You’ve got a mean right hook.” He winked and Castiel’s lips quirked upwards, wings finally beginning to relax.              

Dean stood and meandered over to the forgotten bags. He rummaged around for the medications and when he found them, he returned to the couch, intending on handing them over to Castiel only to find him scratching at his notepad again. Once he was finished, he passed the whole pad to Dean.

 

_I was an investigator._

Dean raised his eyebrows. “…Like… for the police?”

Castiel nodded hesitantly and Dean grinned. “So… you were a detective? Like me?” Castiel managed a small smile and nodded again.              

“Awesome,” said Dean. “Did you have a fancy badge?”

Castiel’s eyes shone with amusement and he nodded and gestured towards the notepad. Dean passed it back to him and Castiel drew a messy halo flanked by a pair of wings. Beneath the halo he drew a ribbon-like graphic containing a few Enochian letters, which Dean couldn’t translate. Next, Castiel sketched an arrow angled towards the letters and wrote: _‘The Eden Garrison’_               

Dean tilted his head. “Eden? Is that the city you lived in?”

Castiel nodded.              

Dean had more questions about Castiel’s old home but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially when their truce was tentative at best. Besides, Samandriel was growing irritated at not being able to understand the conversation and he was glancing back to the pile of bags, eying up the one containing his new art materials, so Dean held out the painkillers and the tube of cream he had bought from the drugstore.              

“Here. You both take the tablets twice every day if the pain is bad. The cream is for the burns and I suppose any scars that are irritating you.”              

Castiel took the items carefully and glanced over them before offering Dean a small grateful smile. The alpha grinned back and stood before jerking his thumb towards the bags of food. “I’ll go and put the groceries away. You… uh… you can do whatever you want,” he finished awkwardly before pulling a face at himself and wandering over to the bags.              

Castiel watched him go with a tiny, amused smile before uncapping the tube of cream and gesturing Samandriel over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: implied non-con and implied underage touching
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Constructive criticism and comments welcome


	5. Rusty Nail

_Castiel had always known that, were he ever to miraculously receive an offer for a job in the Garrison, he wouldn’t be able to achieve his dreams immediately. He knew he would have to start at the bottom and earn his way up the ranks and he knew that being an omega would decrease his chances of acquiring a promotion. He had expected to start with grunt work and slowly prove himself to his co-workers and boss until they begrudgingly admitted that he was just as capable as they were. Unfortunately, his equations had never factored in the point that his boss was a narrow-minded dick and his colleagues were more likely to whistle at his ass than pay any attention to his work._

_He ground his teeth together as another officer brushed past his desk and ‘accidentally’ knocked his papers onto the floor with a trailing wing; the papers fluttering just far enough from his chair that he would have to get up to reach them. It was the eighth time that week that someone had knocked something off his desk, which was a marvel when you took into consideration that Castiel’s desk had been shoved into the far corner of the room so visitors couldn’t spot him, where there were no doors or cabinets or anything that would warrant anyone making a journey past his desk._

_With a thick scowl, Castiel stood and bent down to collect his papers – another thing he was peeved about. He had assumed he would at least see some fieldwork, but Zachariah kept finding ways to keep him tied to the station. Between ‘important’ cases that had not been filed properly and ‘urgent’ paperwork that needed to be filled in before the cases could progress, Castiel had not seen the outside of the station since starting there two months ago._

_Mouth a thin, unhappy line, Castiel gripped his papers tightly a stood but inhaled sharply when a hand groped his ass and a nose wedged itself into his neck, scenting deeply. The repulsive stench of aroused alpha wafted to his nostrils and he whirled on the other officer with a growl, wings raised high in warning. The alpha merely chuckled at him, winking as a few of his friends began to snicker from behind their computer monitors._

_The offending alpha, Officer Inias Kalender took a sip from his coffee cup. “Sorry, sugarwings, didn’t see you there.”_

_Castiel narrowed his eyes, skin crawling where the alpha had scented him, violating him in a way that the majority of the station found entertaining._

_With a soft growl, he shoved past the other officer and sank into his chair, intent on ignoring everyone as he continued with his paperwork. Unfortunately, Inias wasn’t quite finished with him._

_“Now, now, Castiel. Is that any way to treat a fellow officer?” he chided solemnly as he braced a hand near the newly-stacked papers. “I said I was sorry.”_

_Castiel shot him a withering glare. “Try saying it again with more sincerity.”_

_Inias smirked. “Now I understand why the Garrison doesn’t usually employ omegas. Are you always this sensitive?” His free hand slid over the desk to envelop Castiel’s and his thumb brushed the omega’s knuckles suggestively._

_Castiel quickly withdrew the limb and puffed his wings up in warning. Inias eyed them with barely concealed disdain._

_“You know, you’d be a lot prettier if you dyed your wings to something more… cheerful. Colourful. Or maybe something pure, like white.”_

_"Or buttercream,” someone said behind them._

_Castiel glowered at Inias. “Fortunately, my main goal in life doesn’t include being appealing to overbearing alphas. Kindly go away.” He dropped his gaze to his papers, signalling the end of the conversation. Above him, Inias scoffed._

_“Someone’s grumpy. What’s wrong, Castiel? Is it that time of the year? Is that why you smell so delicious?”_

_Castiel stiffened and glared at Inias angrily. He had a special hatred for people who blamed his heats for him rejecting them or standing up for himself. He had heard it countless times from alphas and betas alike; the only reason he wasn’t interested in them was because of his heat, or he was angry at their catcalls because he was about to start his cycle. Omegas weren’t respected in the slightest in the Silver City, in any town or village. The fact that they had to be signed to an alpha proved that._

_“Leave me in peace,” growled Castiel, knowing arguing would be futile. Defending himself would only result in the rest of the station snickering at him and going out of their way to irritate him further. He had no desire to be touched and scented all day._

_Inias_ _clicked his tongue and lightly brushed his fingers down Castiel’s arm, chuckling when Castiel recoiled from him sharply._

_“If that plastic knot isn’t working for you, you know who to come to for the real thing,” he murmured, winking at Castiel and displaying his wings in a very clear attempt to impress him. Someone whistled behind him._

_Castiel stared at them in distaste. “I’ll keep that in mind in case I ever feel like being disappointed.”_

_Inias' eyes widened, wings wilting comically, then he took a step forwards until he was looming over Castiel and with a narrow glare, he raised his wings again, curling them forwards slightly in a possessive gesture meant to show his authority over the omega. Castiel wrinkled his nose at the repugnant scent Inias was spewing. He had never understood why alphas (and the occasional beta) thought that flooding a room with domineering pheromones was attractive._

_He stared at Inias blandly and took a little satisfaction in the way all the alphas in the room had suddenly tensed and looked as though they were itching for some sort of fight as Inias' scent reached their nostrils._

_“If you’re that desperate for a quick knot, why don’t you open up this invitation to the rest of the room. I’m sure someone will take you up on it.” A small smirk twitched Castiel’s lips and he was unable to help himself from muttering his next comment. “Ramiel looks interested.”_

_Ramiel growled loudly from his position on the opposite side of the room. He, like Inias, was an alpha and the pair were infamous rivals. They had the same arrest rate, the same number of awards, identical test scores for every fitness and accuracy exam, and they were always trying to outdo one another when there was talk of promotions. Everyone knew they despised one another._

_“Shut your whore mouth,” snarled Inias as Ramiel snapped, “Bitch.”_

_Castiel smiled smugly and made a point of returning to his work. Inias however, wasn’t satisfied with being dismissed so easily._

_He grabbed one of Castiel’s wings and tugged harshly on the feathers and Castiel gasped at the violation. He tried to yank his wing free but Inias held strong and pressed a finger into the oil gland residing at the top of his own wing. Eyes widening as he realised what was about to happen, Castiel struggled harder against Inias' grip, standing up and kicking his chair over in the process. Oil began to drip down Inias' feathers, glistening under the station’s bright lights and Castiel watched everything unfold in slow motion as Inias withdrew slick fingers from the gland._

_The first thing that hit Castiel was the pungent scent, soured and rotten from Inias' anger and cruel intentions. Then, the alpha plunged his hand into Castiel’s feathers, working his oil into the omega’s skin and Castiel cried out in frustration and tried to shove Inias away. Inias caught his wrist in one hand and quickly collected more oil and rubbed it into Castiel’s wing, wrestling the omega against the wall as he did so._

_Inias was slightly taller than Castiel and as an alpha, he was naturally stronger, but Castiel had trained and built his muscles up through intense work-out regimes and when he came to terms with the fact that he didn’t care about the consequences of hitting a fellow officer so long as he managed to put some distance between them, he jerked his knee upwards into Inias' crotch and slammed his fist into the side of his face once Inias loosened his grip._

_The alpha staggered to one side, holding his bruised jaw and Castiel bared his teeth and flared his wings in challenge, nose wrinkled at the scent of_ Inias _emanating from his left wing. Inias caught the expression and smirked tightly through the pain bursting across his jaw._

_“At least now you smell like an omega should. Owned by your superior.”_

_Castiel ground his teeth together and prepared another blow to Inias' face, but stopped mid-swing when a familiar voice snarled his name. He turned slowly to find Zachariah standing in the doorway to his office, wings raised and expression twisted in fury._

_“Get over here,” Zachariah hissed, halo an ominous black._

_Castiel opened his mouth to protest as Inias chuckled quietly behind him, but Zachariah’s scowl deepened and he thought better of it, slowly slinking over to the older angel. Hushed snickers and derogatory murmurs echoed in his ears as he trekked the long walk to the Captain’s office._

_The door closed behind them and the rest of the station smirked as Zachariah’s voice grew louder and Castiel’s faded to nothing._

_When Castiel was finally released, Zachariah didn’t even spare Inias a disapproving glance._

*             *             *

 

“Oh, hey, do you want me to help you with that?” asked Dean as he carried the plates of toast into the living room and deposited them on the coffee table.              

Castiel startled as Dean slid the tube of cream from his grip and squeezed a small dollop onto his fingers. He gently rubbed the cream into the burns on the inside of the omega’s wing and then made quick work of the outsides before moving onto Samandriel, who flinched at his touch but managed to straighten himself out after a few moments. Once he was finished, Dean scuttled into the kitchen again and returned with a box of tablets, which he dropped on the table as well.              

“Don’t forget your meds,” he said as he sank into the sofa and began wolfing down his breakfast, only just noticing how much he had overslept. It took him forty minutes to get to work and his shift began in thirty.              

Castiel stared at Dean with wide, unblinking eyes for a long while before Dean finally noticed and, with a mouthful of toast, asked, “What?”              

Castiel tore his gaze away and grabbed the box of tablets and Dean watched him open it before shifting his brain into gear and shoving his last slice of toast between his teeth and stumbling to the door as he attempted to slip his shoes on at the same time.              

“It’ll be around six when I get home,” Dean said as he swallowed the last of his breakfast. “You good ‘til then? Just call me if there’s an emergency.” He threw his jacket on hastily as Castiel blinked at him. Dean paused suddenly and turned round eyes on Castiel. “You do know how to cook, right? Or at least make some sort of lunch for yourself?”              

Castiel rolled his eyes and nodded and Dean grinned sheepishly. “Right. Sorry.”

He flung the door open and paused half-way through it. “Uh… take care of yourselves. I’ve put Hera out, so you don’t need to worry about her. Just… be careful, yeah?” At both angels’ silent staring, Dean ducked his head and closed the door, making his way towards the Impala.              

He was half-way to the station when his phone blared an _ACDC_ guitar riff and he fished it out of his pocket, briefly checked the caller I.D. and sighed before hitting ‘accept’ and tossing it onto the dashboard.              

“What?” he grunted.

“Good morning to you too,” huffed Sam’s tinny voice. “Glad to hear you’re still alive.”              

Dean’s eyes rolled skywards. “Did you want something or not?”

“Like I said, wanted to check that you’re still alive after hanging up on me on Saturday and going completely radio silent after just admitting that there’s a couple of psychotic angels sleeping in the room next door,” grumbled Sam.              

Dean glowered at his phone. “They’re not psychotic. They’re traumatised, okay? We’ve had a couple of misunderstandings but we’ve worked them out. We’re cool. We’ve talked.”              

“Thought you said Castiel couldn’t talk and Samandriel didn’t understand English?” Dean could practically hear Sam’s frown.              

“Alright, well I talked and Castiel wrote replies on a notepad. Happy? We’ve found a way to communicate,” Dean huffed, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. “Don’t make a huge deal over this.”              

“Don’t make a huge deal?” scoffed Sam. “Dean, you realise they could kill you, right? They have massive wings and they all have their own powers. Do you even know what their powers are? Did you ask before you signed their papers?”              

Dean shifted uncomfortably, mouth drawing downwards. “Of course I asked,” he lied. “Samandriel can talk to animals.”              

“And Castiel?”

Dean opened his mouth then snapped it shut as he realised he had absolutely no idea what kind of abilities Castiel had. His silence prompted a snort from Sam.              

“You didn’t ask, did you? You have no idea what Castiel can do. For all you know, he could blow things up with a flick of his wrist!”              

Dean huffed. “He’s not a bomb, Sam. He’s not a killer either.” At least, Dean hoped he wasn’t. “The guy is just scared.”              

“Which is why they need professional help, Dean!”

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now,” scowled Dean. “Just… don’t come over for a little while, okay? These guys are spooked enough by alphas as it is. They don’t need your six-foot-four wall of muscle sprawling over the couch and they don’t need your merry band of angels taking over the house and asking a billion questions. Just… stay away for a bit.”              

“Dean-” Sam protested, but Dean cut the call and settled back into his seat, trying not to dwell on Castiel’s mystery powers.

 

*             *             *

 

Dean’s shift was long and tedious and he returned home feeling like he had achieved nothing all day despite the cramp in his wrist from filling out so much paperwork. Thankfully, Charlie had popped around with doughnuts and Dean had very much enjoyed the treats and the company. Charlie worked in IT and did a lot of tech work that Dean didn’t fully understand, but she always had the best stories and there wasn’t an officer in the station who didn’t like her.              

So, Dean left work bored and tired, but with a couple of doughnuts he had sneaked out and was planning on giving to the angels.              

Gravel crunched beneath the Impala’s tyres as he parked her outside the house and Dean ensured she was locked before slipping inside the house with a call of “I’m home!”              

He turned away from the door and took one step before freezing and glancing around the living room in confusion. He slowly made his way to the couch and swiped a finger over its back, blinking when his finger came back clean. He padded to a windowsill and repeated the movement and once again, he found not a speck of the dust that had blanketed it for years. He frowned at his fingers and flicked his gaze around. He had never seen the lounge look so clean.              

He made his way into the kitchen, slow and cautious as he drank in the sight of the walls that suddenly seemed less filthy and faded despite their paint being cracked. Even the wooden floors looked mopped. Once he made it to the kitchen, he balked at how neat everything was. The cabinets had clearly been dusted and the window was spotless and although the microwave had yellowed with age, it didn’t look like it belonged in a museum anymore.              

“What the…?” Dean murmured to himself as he brushed his fingers over the top of the fridge and they came back dust-free.              

He vacated the kitchen and looked around once more in disbelief before there was a quiet _thud_ from what sounded like the bathroom. Dean startled and headed in that direction and when he opened the door, his eyebrows shot towards his hairline at the scene of a sweaty, grubby Castiel cleaning out the shower as an equally grimy Samandriel wiped years’ worth of dust from the tiled walls.              

“What are you doing?” Dean blurted and both angels jumped and turned to him with wide eyes and caught-out expressions.              

When they didn’t respond, Dean gestured around the room. “Not that I don’t appreciate all the effort, but… why are you cleaning the house?”              

Samandriel scrunched his nose up, puzzled and he looked to his father for a translation but Castiel ducked his head a little and stood, keeping his wings low as he climbed out of the shower and dropped his gaze to the floor like a naughty school boy.              

Dean frowned for a moment before Castiel glanced up at him and gestured for something to write with, and Dean made a sound of realisation before zipping into the kitchen and grabbing a notepad from the drawer and a pen.              

Castiel took the items from him and began scribbling hastily. Then he tore the page out and handed it to Dean.

 

_We can be useful in ways not pertaining to intercourse._

Dean’s eyes widened and his jaw worked open and closed for a few moments before he closed his eyes and collected himself. He glanced up at Castiel with a light frown.              

“I thought I explained I didn’t bring you here for sex or anything like that? I just want you to heal.”

Castiel frowned as though the idea confused him. He put pen to paper and wrote out a new note.

 

_Then why bring us here? You must want something. I am a poor cook and have very few useful skills. I can handle manual labour and housework and my son can partake in light work such as cleaning and tidying. However, we can learn if you are willing to explain. What is it you expect of us?_

 

Dean huffed quietly once he had finished reading the note and he cocked an eyebrow at Castiel. “I expect nothing,” he said slowly. “Like I said, I brought you here to heal and to give you the break you just can’t seem to catch. If you want to sweep the floors and dust the lights, then by all means. But I ain’t asking you to do any of it. I don’t expect you to act like my personal butlers or slaves or whatever. Do whatever you want.”              

Castiel’s face pinched into an expression of frustration before it smoothed out again and he scratched out a new message.

 

_Why won’t you just tell us what it is you want from us?_

 

Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t want anything! Why is that such a hard concept for you?”              

Castiel blinked at him, seemingly stunned. He turned to Samandriel, who was glancing between him and Dean warily, damp cloth in hand.              

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. “The house looks great,” he said softly. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it even if I have an awful way of showing it.”              

Castiel flicked intense blue eyes to him and Dean huffed out a quiet laugh at the black smudge painting his cheek.

“How about you guys get yourselves cleaned up for dinner and I’ll make some chilli for us? You guys ever had chilli before?”              

At two negative head shakes, Dean offered the angels a small smile before padding out of the bathroom.

 

*             *             *

 

Dinner was fairly uneventful and once it was over, Dean presented the angels with the doughnuts he’d snagged from Charlie. Their halos burned yellow as they devoured the treats and Dean’s lips quirked upwards before he rose to his feet and stated that it was time to bring Hera in from the field. The angels followed him outside like curious puppies, silent as he retrieved the headcollar and lead rope. He marched towards the paddock she was grazing in and whistled long and high until the Clydesdale’s ears pricked up and she trotted over to him.              

“Good girl,” he murmured, sliding a hand down her nose. She huffed at him and he slipped her headcollar on before leading her out of the gate. He guided her towards the stables, Castiel following at a sedate pace as Samandriel trailed behind them whilst running his hand along the length of the dilapidated fence, humming softly to himself.              

The farm was shrouded in darkness with only the pinpoint twinkle of stars and the cream moon providing any light. Dean was accustomed to the shadows that danced upon the land and the wildlife, which claimed the night as their playground. He was used to the melodies and rhythms of the evening and the tricks that the darkness played on the innocent.              

He wasn’t, however, prepared for the almighty scream that exploded from Samandriel’s throat.

Hera reared in panic as Dean whirled around in wide-eyed shock. Castiel raced to his son at the same moment that Hera bolted, tugging Dean off his feet, and the alpha landed hard in the dirt with a grunted, _“Oof.”_               

Dean pushed himself off the ground and squinted at Samandriel as he jogged over and he noticed that the boy was clutching his hand to his chest, blood trickling down his arms and between his fingers as he sobbed. Castiel tried to convince his son to let him see the damage by pawing lightly at his arm, but Samandriel was crying too hard, his halo clashing purple and blue as his cheeks grew red with tears.              

Something shifted gears in his brain and before Dean could think about what he was doing, he had gathered the child into his arms and was holding him close to his chest as he murmured soft Enochian words of comfort. Samandriel’s cries began to quieten, his breaths hitching violently as he curled his undamaged fist in Dean’s shirt, and the alpha nuzzled his hair as he smoothed a hand down a quivering wing.              

The young omega’s tears dried as he cautiously pressed his nose into Dean’s neck and Dean continued to murmur quiet promises in Enochian as he scanned the fence for the cause of Samandriel’s pain. He scowled at the rusty nail protruding from a section of rotting wood, bent and menacingly sharp and coated in Samandriel’s blood.              

Dean growled softly as though he could somehow intimidate the offending nail into submission for its crimes and he held Samandriel tighter, a familiar protective urge washing over him as he remembered taking care of his brother after a young Sam had suffered a similar incident with a stray nail hiding in the grass. His brother had walked with a limp for a couple of weeks after that.              

 ** _“It’s okay,”_** mumbled Dean as he nuzzled Samandriel’s hair. **_“We’ll fix you. You’re alright.”_**

Samandriel cautiously laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, listening to the sweet promises as he focused on evening out his breathing and Dean headed towards the house without a second thought.

He deposited Samandriel on the toilet lid like he had done with Sam all those years ago and he grabbed the first aid kit from the cupboard under the sink, barely aware of Castiel standing helplessly in the doorway, wings twitching nervously and halo swinging wildly between white and silver as he scrutinised Dean’s every movement.

 ** _“Can I see?”_** Dean asked, gently prying Samandriel’s hand away from his chest even as the young omega flared his wings at him. Despite the hesitancy, Samandriel allowed him to take a look at the damaged hand and Dean sucked in a sharp breath before he could stop himself.

The skin was torn and inflamed, with jagged edges and pools of blood which trailed down his arm and between his fingers and dried in the creases of his palm. Samandriel whimpered at the sight and tried to steal his hand from Dean’s gentle grip, but the alpha tightened his hold and found a cloth, which he dampened and used to clean up the tacky red stains coating the omega’s skin. Next, he searched the kit for an antiseptic cream and applied that to the wide but shallow gash, and Samandriel whined at the sting, making Castiel’s wings puff out as he took a step towards Dean.

 ** _“I know. I’m sorry,”_** Dean cooed. **_“But I’m trying to help.”_** He wrapped his palm in a soft bandage and sealed it with a waterproof layer.

Samandriel flexed his hand carefully and then flicked his gaze up to Dean with large, sorrowful eyes that reminded the alpha of his brother’s favourite expression whenever he wanted something out of Dean. He chuckled despite himself and ruffled Samandriel’s hair affectionately like he often did with Sam (which nowadays, irritated the younger alpha to no end).              

Samandriel jerked backwards in shock but when Dean’s expression fell, the little omega straightened again and managed a weak smile.              

 ** _“Thank you,”_** Samandriel mumbled, staring at his feet.

 ** _“You’re welcome,”_** Dean replied quietly before beginning to put everything away.              

Samandriel’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he padded over to his father and Dean finally remembered that Castiel was in the room. He turned to the older angel to find him gazing at him with a small, confused frown, one of his wings tilted higher than the other like a dog’s ears when it cocked its head.              

Dean remained silent and continued cleaning up and when he next turned to the doorway, both angels had vanished.

He sighed wearily and pressed his head against the cool sink. What was he doing? He had no idea how to convince the angels that it was safe to trust him and they seemed to be getting more hurt staying at the farm with him than they had in the hostel. Sure, he could tell himself that he had done a good thing by bringing them to his home and allowing them to be together, but they were terrified of him and they had psychological issues that he had no idea how to approach. He didn’t know how to take care of children and he had already upset Castiel more than once without even realising he had said anything wrong. Why had he agreed to look after them? He barely knew anything about them.              

He stood and traipsed out of the bathroom, into the lounge. He frowned upon noticing neither angel was present. Glancing around, he walked into the kitchen realised they weren’t there either.              

Curious, he re-entered the lounge and caught some slight movement in the window. He peered through it and watched Samandriel slowly press his undamaged hand to Hera’s leg. Her eyes were wild and frightened but Samandriel murmured soothing words as he continued to stroke her leg and Castiel slowly scratched her withers and soon, Hera was calm and huffing softly, her ears twitching with every syllable Samandriel uttered.              

The pair led Hera to her stable at a leisurely pace, offering her some apple they must have sneaked out of the fridge and Hera munched on it happily, nudging Castiel’s wings for more. Once she was locked away safely, Castiel stooped down to pick Samandriel up and he inspected the bandage for a moment before holding his son close to allow the younger omega to scent him. Samandriel buried his nose into Castiel’s neck, lips forming barely audible whispers and pausing every so often as he presumably listened to Castiel’s silent thoughts.              

Dean pulled away from the window, smiling lightly at the angels’ thoughtfulness. He would have gone out to catch the wayward Clydesdale, but it seemed as though they had already done it for him. And they had managed to calm her down using Samandriel’s unique ability.              

He flopped onto the couch and mused over the idea of every angel having a special power. He knew all of Sam’s angels had powers, but it had never occurred to him that no two angels possessed the same one. What could Castiel do? Were his powers related to Samandriel’s or were they completely unique? Was it rude to ask Castiel directly?              

He glanced up at the angels’ entrance to the lounge and when they spotted him, they dropped their gazes as though they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t have. Dean smiled at them warmly.              

“Thanks for bringing her in. Did you put her headcollar away?”

He received two silent nods and Dean stretched out over the couch. “Awesome.”              

They lingered a little longer before Samandriel glanced to the corridor leading to the bedrooms and Dean’s face fell a little.              

“You don’t have to stay with me,” he said quietly. “You can do whatever you like.”

Without a second glance back at him, they disappeared down the corridor.

 

*             *             *

 

The following day when Dean returned home from work, Samandriel and Castiel had cleaned out Hera’s stable (which Dean was ashamed to admit he hadn’t thought about in a couple of days), filled her hay net, refreshed her water in both the field and her stall and they had cleaned the rest of the house, barring Dean’s room. The alpha wore a vaguely impressed expression as he poked around the spare bedrooms and admired the clean walls and pristine bedsheets. He couldn’t remember the last time he had washed the bedsheets and his cheeks reddened at the thought.              

He wandered into the lounge, where he found Samandriel sprawled over the floor on his stomach, sketching with his new art supplies. Dean pulled a face. The kid was going to get cold lying on the hard, wooden floor like that. Still, he didn’t want to disturb him, so he watched quietly for a little while before Samandriel’s left hand paused its path and the angel looked up at the black television screen. Dean realised that the omega was observing him through the reflection of the screen.              

He waved sheepishly and Samandriel blinked but didn’t continue drawing, so Dean shuffled over and slumped onto the floor beside him, acutely aware of the boy’s suspicious gaze.              

 ** _“What are you…?”_** He mimed drawing with his hand, uncertain of the correct Enochian translation.

Samandriel eyed him for a moment before slowly returning to his work. “Abramg,” he mumbled.              

Dean tilted his head in confusion and Samandriel scowled slightly before tapping his pencil against the page and pretending to scribble over it. “Abramg,” he said again.              

Dean nodded in realisation and mirrored the gesture. “Drawing.”

Samandriel pulled a face and returned his eyes to the page. “Drawing,” he confirmed, the word slow and unnatural-sounding on his tongue.              

Dean slid his gaze to the paper and made an alarmed noise at the half-completed sketch of what was clearly Hera grazing in a field. The image was composed of shades of black and white but her face was well-detailed and the shine on her coat was almost life-like. Her eyes were warm and content and the clover tickled her nose and curled over her hooves. Had Dean not seen Samandriel holding the pencil, he would have assumed that an experienced artist bearing a scruffy grey beard, old-fashioned spectacles and liver-spotted skin had etched the picture.              

 ** _“This is amazing,”_** he blurted and Samandriel blinked at him in surprise before the tips of his ears turned pink and his wings fidgeted against his back.              

 ** _“Thank you,”_** he mumbled, eyes glued to the page.

Dean watched the young angel crosshatch some depth into a cloud.              

 ** _“How’s your hand?”_** he asked after a few minutes.

Samandriel briefly flicked his gaze to his bandaged right palm. He flexed it and shrugged before returning his focus to his sketch. Dean sucked on the inside of his cheek awkwardly before gesturing to the child’s wings.              

**_“And your wings? Did your dad put cream on them this morning?”_ **

Samandriel nodded distractedly and Dean dropped his gaze. He felt as though he had no idea how to talk to the kid.              

A few minutes passed and Dean pulled himself to his feet and retreated to a spare bedroom. He returned to the living room with a duvet hoisted over his shoulder and Samandriel eyed him through the TV screen curiously. His eyebrows shot to his hairline when Dean gestured for him to get up as he folded the double sheet in half.              

 ** _“You’ll get cold on the floor,”_** Dean explained as Samandriel rose to his feet and lay down the duvet.

Samandriel settled onto it warily but when Dean did nothing more, the angel smiled at him weakly and continued drawing. The corners of Dean’s mouth quirked upwards as Samandriel silently shuffled over to one side of the duvet, making room for him. The alpha settled beside the little omega and stretched out, being careful not to touch the angel as he watched him draw.              

 ** _“Thanks for cleaning up and looking after Hera,”_** Dean murmured after a while and he smiled as Samandriel’s halo shone with hints of gold amongst the contented yellow.              

 ** _“Hera likes you a lot,”_** hummed Samandriel and a shocked laugh escaped Dean. Usually when people said things like that, it was because they thought they could read the animal’s body language or because they were trying to rationalise its actions. Samandriel just stated it like a fact because he could literally read their thoughts. Dean was genuinely flattered.              

 ** _“Well, I like her a lot,”_** he replied, watching the angel’s wings twitch and flick irritably, most like due to their injuries as the morning’s pain killers wore off.              

 ** _“She knows,”_** Samandriel commented as he added shadows to Hera’s legs.

Before Dean could think things through, he reached out and massaged the base of a scarred wing, manipulating it gently until the muscles loosened beneath his palm.              

The rest of Samandriel’s body stiffened, pencil frozen over the page, but Dean was too busy admiring the drawing to fully notice. Soft, silky feathers tickled his palm and he moved a little further down the wing, feeling the muscles shifting beneath his fingers.              

Samandriel’s breaths came in rapid, shallow bursts and Dean finally recognised his mistake as Samandriel stared holes into the paper, eyes wide and panicked as his knuckles turned white around his pencil.              

 ** _“I’m sorry,”_** Dean whispered, horrified as he recoiled his hand from the downy feathers.

Samandriel squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenched and Dean watched a tear roll down his cheek even as the little angel fought to hold it back.              

 ** _“I’m sorry,”_** Dean murmured again, heart aching for the boy.

Samandriel’s wings began to tremble and another tear streaked down his face. **_“I… You… I want to… It’s not…”_** He sucked in a shuddering breath and turned his face away from Dean, halo swinging wildly through a multitude of colours. **_“They used to touch…”_** He shook his head and a tiny sob burst from his throat, making Dean long to pull him to his chest, curl around him and protect him from the world.              

Suddenly, Samandriel stood, abandoned his sketchbook and slinked out of the lounge.

Dean closed his eyes and cursed Ketch for ever laying his eyes upon the angels.

 

*             *             *

 

Dinner was quiet and tense and Samandriel refused to look at him. Every so often, Castiel would throw him a glance that Dean couldn’t quite decipher and then he would return his attention to Samandriel and stroke his back soothingly.              

 ** _“I’m sorry,”_** Dean whispered again when their plates were empty, tone broken and pained and Samandriel didn’t react; merely picked up his plate and took it to the sink. Castiel shot the alpha another strange look before clearing the table and beginning to wash up.              

Feeling even guiltier, Dean grabbed the towel and wordlessly dried the clean dishes that Castiel placed on the draining board. The tick of the clock was loud in Dean’s ears and he slid his gaze to Samandriel’s empty chair; the young angel nowhere to be seen. When Dean returned his gaze to the dishes, there was a note in front of him.

 

_We are trying. This is hard for us._

Dean stared at the note for a solid minute before lowering his gaze to the pan he was drying. “I know you’re trying,” he mumbled. “So am I.”              

Another note slid in front of him.

 

_We know._

Dean closed his eyes for a second before turning to Castiel. “I don’t want to hurt you guys. I never meant to make him upset. I’d never do anything to you that Ketch or those other alphas did. I promise.”              

Castiel tapped on his last note and Dean cast his gaze to it. _We know._ Dean scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Tell me how to fix this,” he pleaded, voice barely a whisper. “Tell me how to make you both better. I don’t know what I’m doing.”              

Castiel blinked at him, seemingly stunned. He frowned thoughtfully for a moment before scribbling out a new message.

 

_You are helping._

Dean shook his head. “No, I’m making things worse. I keep upsetting you both. You keep getting hurt.” He gestured to the gauze pads taped to Castiel’s wings.              

Castiel furrowed his brows and tapped insistently on his most recent note. Dean stared at the three simple words before sighing. “Then why won’t Samandriel look at me?”              

Castiel’s gaze softened and he glanced to the lounge, where he knew Samandriel to be hiding. He wrote out a new message.

 

_Alphas have not been kind to him in the past. Be patient with him. He is trying very hard here._

“I just… wanted to help,” Dean muttered. “His wings looked painful and I didn’t think. I just reached out and-”              

Castiel laid a tentative hand on his shoulder and Dean looked up. He offered the alpha a sad, broken smile and Dean sagged defeatedly.              

“I’m not great with words,” Dean admitted quietly. “That’s my brother’s thing. I’m more of a man of action. I’m not sure how much help I’m going to be to you guys. Maybe… you’d fair better with a therapist or something?”              

Castiel’s eyes widened in alarm and he shook his head rapidly, grip on Dean’s shoulder tightening. He released the alpha to frantically scratch out a new note.

 

_Please don’t turn us away_

Dean stared at the message in surprise before flicking his gaze up to Castiel’s face. “…You wanna stay here?”              

The omega nodded hurriedly before turning his head towards the lounge and Dean quickly understood. Castiel thought that he would be separated from his son if Dean sent him away, which probably wasn’t all that far from the truth.                

“That’s fine, man. I’m not kicking you out or anything. I just… I want you to be comfortable, y’know, and sticking around a dumb alpha who can’t really talk about feelings and crap isn’t exactly the best way to get over trauma. You’re right… I have no idea what you’ve been through and I wouldn’t know where to start and I think being around me is gonna make you feel worse,” Dean said, words stumbling over one another as he tried to voice the myriad of thoughts swirling around his mind.              

Castiel tilted his head in a way that Dean thought made him look like a bird. His next message was written much slower, as though he was choosing the words as he wrote them.

 

_I think I would like to stay here for now._

Dean considered the message for a long moment before flicking his gaze to Castiel and noticing that the angel wasn’t looking at him. He studied the message again before nodding.              

“Okay,” he said, a warm feeling spreading through his chest and a smile threatening to break out over his face. “If that’s what you want.”              

Castiel finally met his gaze and Dean saw a flash of hope in his eyes before he ducked his head again. Dean cocked an eyebrow.              

“Don’t do that,” he murmured and when Castiel didn’t look up, Dean cautiously tilted his chin upwards with two fingers. The omega tensed for a brief moment but Dean quickly released him and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t bow like that,” Dean repeated quietly. “You don’t have to defer to me. You’re not a slave and I’m not your master or your superior or whatever.”

Castiel frowned and wrote out a new note.

 

_But you are an alpha. Is it not expected of an omega to show respect towards their alpha?_

 

Dean scowled, abruptly remembering all the times that Castiel and Samandriel refused to meet his gaze; it all suddenly made sense.              

“I don’t know what was expected of you on Heaven or wherever else you’ve been, but bowing and dropping your gaze or whatever isn’t respect. It’s subservience. Obedience. I don’t want you submitting to me – you’re not a fuzzy lap dog.” Dean fidgeted with his pockets awkwardly as Castiel’s gaze flitted between him and the floor in a constant cycle of apprehension. “Same goes for Samandriel. We all live in this house as equals, okay? Omegas, betas, alphas… doesn’t matter, we’re all the same. Respect isn’t about submission, alright? It’s about not interrupting one another and listening to each other when we need it and when we don’t. It’s giving a crap about one another and even if we don’t agree on something, it’s trying to see the thing from each other’s perspective and attempting to understand. Respect is not taking advantage of someone when they’re at their lowest and looking out for them when they need a friend. Understand?”              

Castiel’s eyes were round and wide as he stared at Dean and he nodded slowly, absorbing the information. Dean managed a lopsided smile before putting the last cup away and tossing the towel over the oven handle. “This is your home as much as it is mine. As long as you respect it, you don’t have to ask me before you do anything and you certainly don’t have to curtsy for me.”              

Dean shuffled out of the kitchen, aware of Castiel trotting after him with lightly fluttering wings and a buttercup halo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's going to be a long road ahead for Dean...


	6. Visitors

_Darkness blanketed the town as Castiel walked home from his shift, paperwork tucked under his arm. He sighed wearily as he made it to the train station and perched on a cold, metal bench as he waited for his transport to arrive._

_Eden was a sprawling town and bore the Silver City’s second largest population. Gushing rivers and lakes split the town into zones and Castiel lived a solid hour’s train journey away from the garrison station. It was impossible to walk and flying would exhaust him before the day had even started, so he chose to take the train and walk the bits that the train didn’t quite reach._

_Castiel lived in Zone Epsilon – the zone with the highest murder rate. He had hoped that one day he would move out of his damp flat with its three tiny rooms and flickering lights and get away from the hundred other residents of the complex of little boxes. Unfortunately, it had taken him this long to find a decent-paying job and since he had never been interested in finding an alpha like all ‘good’ omegas were supposed to, it was his only source of income. Still, he was determined to find a way out of Zone Epsilon._

_The train screeched to a slow halt, making the platform judder before the doors opened and an assortment of people piled in to the seven musty carriages. Trains in Eden were narrow and stuffy, with only room for four seats across and a tight corridor between pairs. There were rails for people to hold if they were standing, but more often than not these were littered with sticky gum or occasionally, razor blades courtesy of the local youth._

_Castiel managed to spot an empty seat and he squeezed himself into it, folding his wings behind him uncomfortably as the woman beside him slotted her bag onto a third of his seat. He made a point of staring at her but she either didn’t notice or didn’t care, for she didn’t move her bag._

_The smell of dirty oil reached Castiel’s nose, having nowhere to escape in the underground station and around him, people coughed quietly from the repugnant stench. It was a familiar scene and like everyone else, Castiel ignored it and kept to himself. He straightened out his paperwork and glanced over his task for the evening, far too tired to be grumpy about being the only officer in the station who was forced to take paperwork home. It wasn’t even his paperwork; it was Zachariah’s. The Captain just couldn’t be bothered to fill it out and since they had an inspection tomorrow from the Chief, Castiel had drawn the short straw._

_He was halfway through scanning the second page when someone cleared their throat above him obnoxiously. He flicked his gaze up to find a tall beta woman looming over him, arms crossed and expectant eyebrow arched._

_Castiel’s wings drooped a little and he opened his mouth to protest but the woman tapped her foot impatiently and the people around him began to stare. Still, he was tired and he didn’t feel much like moving._

_“I’ve had a long day at work,” he said firmly._

_The woman scoffed, fiery red locks of hair brushing her shoulders as she glanced over his uniform. “At a fancy dress shop? Please, I’ve worked a nine-hour shift in the solicitor’s office. You know, a_ real _job. Now move.”_

 _Castiel’s teeth grated together as his grip on his papers tightened. “I do work a_ real _job. In a_ real _garrison station. Now, I’m tired. There must be an empty seat in another carriage.” There were snickers and mutters of disapproval around him but he kept his chin tilted upwards in defiance as he glared at the seething beta._

 _“Get up, you lying bitch,” she growled, orange wings spanning wide in an effort to intimidate him. “You know the rules. You have to give the seat up to your superiors. I’m your superior.”_

_Castiel glanced around the carriage, noting all the omegas standing up in the corridor and all the alphas and betas glaring at him from their seats. He clenched his jaw and narrowed his gaze at the loud beta as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his badge. “I’m not lying,” he growled lowly, taking immense satisfaction in her shocked expression and those of the people around him._

_The silence didn’t last long though. The beta crossed her arms, wings fanning wider. “An officer who doesn’t know the law? How ironic. Tell me, what would happen if I called your chief now and told him you refused to give up your seat to me? What’s the penalty for breaking a rule like that?”_

_Castiel’s face fell, wings limp behind him. Then, he scowled, halo a deep black as he stood and slid into the corridor. He watched as the beta smirked triumphantly at him before taking his seat, which the woman beside her cleared of her handbag. A couple of people clapped whilst others leered at Castiel. Sickened by their actions, Castiel headed towards the doors, intent on boarding the next train but he had to endure a round of wing and ass groping from alpha and beta passengers as he did so and by the time he pried himself out of the closing doors, he felt humiliated and violated._

_His tie hung loosely around his neck where people had tried to grab him, and his feathers were ruffled and exuding the stench of various alphas and betas after they had clawed their hands through his wings. He could still feel the ghost of hands on his rump and he was pretty certain someone had attempted to bury their nose into his neck._

_He found a cool bench in an empty part of the station where the lights hadn’t worked properly in months and he slumped onto it, cheeks burning and wings curled around himself in an effort to hide his body away._

_Suddenly, there was a frantic shout followed by racing footsteps and Castiel peeked over a wing to watch a small group of men thunder down the stairs, guns in hand as they yelled in a language Castiel didn’t understand. The people on the platform screamed and began to scatter and Castiel sucked in a sharp gasp as the cacophony of bullets drowned out the other sounds of the station._

_Three people sporting bullet holes slumped to the floor, blood pooling around them and one of the shooters sprinted towards the tracks and threw a small, pear-shaped device in front of the train Castiel had just vacated. The shooter then scrambled away from the train and the passengers trapped inside began to scream in horror, each of them already knowing what the device was._

_Finally, Castiel dropped his wing low enough to drink in the sight of leathery wings and sharp horns and his eyes widened as he realised that the station was being attacked by a group of demons. Another round of bullets echoed around the steel walls and commuters cried out as they sank to the floor, covering themselves or loved ones with their wings in a poor attempt at protection._

_Thinking quickly, Castiel pressed himself into the wall, hidden by darkness and for once he was grateful for his unusual black wings that everyone thought so repulsive. He slid slowly across the wall, fingering the gun at his hip and the blade on the opposite side as the demons shouted threats in Enochian, unaware of his movements._

_The stink of fear and oil flooded the station and Castiel’s heart raced as he neared the attackers. Angels watched him silently from the floor and he wished they wouldn’t because he didn’t want them to draw any attention to him._

_He need not have worried, for suddenly there was the clunk of heavy boots hurtling down the stairs; two armed angelic officers yelling threats at the demons as they readied their weapons. They drew the attention of every demon in the station and neither officer made it to the bottom step before their brains were decorating the walls._

_Civilians cried out in terror and the demons chittered to one another in their native language, ordering one another around. Castiel flinched at the pools of deep crimson creeping down the steps in thick, slow dribbles and flicked his gaze away from the vacant stares of the fallen officers for fear of recognising their faces._

_The distraction had given him enough time to reach his target and he cautiously stretched out an arm, using the butt of his pistol to break the thin layer of glass hiding its prize. Taking a steadying breath, Castiel flipped the lever and suddenly, water rained down upon the platform and tracks, a shrill alarm blaring over the cacophony of gallons of water hitting steel._

_The demons startled and their expressions turned panicked as they squinted through the downpour and subsequent mists, and Castiel crouched down and aimed his gun. In five seconds, three demons were bleeding out over the platform and Castiel counted six more beginning to sweat. He downed another before the remaining five spotted him and he cursed under his breath as they raised their own weapons._

_He raced through the water, heart pumping as a bullet grazed his shoe, and he jumped down onto the tracks and scrambled under the front carriage, eying the bomb warily and wondering when it was set to explode._

_Two demons jumped onto the tracks a moment later and as they approached the train, he shot their ankles. When they crumpled to the ground with pained shouts, he unloaded a bullet into each of their chests and calculated that he had seven left and no refills._

_He scurried out from beneath the train and wasn’t prepared for the demon that dropped from the top of the carriage, onto his back. He yelped as the demon dragged him onto the second set of tracks whilst pressing a blade against his throat._

_“Stupid whore,” the demon growled against his ear and Castiel could smell that the man was an alpha and that he was panicking._

_Unwilling to give the alpha time to think, Castiel rubbed his rear against the demon’s crotch and let out a pornographic moan. The alpha frowned in confusion and relaxed his grip on the knife just enough for Castiel to whip his own blade out of its holder and lodge it in the demon’s gut. The demon slumped to the ground and Castiel struck his heart with his silver blade before glancing up to find two demons with their guns trained on him._

_In a flash, Castiel spread his wings and launched himself into the air, barely avoiding one demon’s bullets only to fall victim to the second’s. He shouted in agony as one bullet tore through his shin and he stumbled when he landed on the platform, the limb cracking wetly beneath his weight._

_He swallowed his second cry and limped towards the fire extinguisher when he heard the demons take flight behind him. His wings were heavy and frozen with the amount of water they were carrying and he was certain that he wouldn’t be able to make another quick escape like that last one if the demons managed to corner him._

_They landed behind him with an ominous thud, but they were slow and inexperienced with aiming their guns and despite his sodden feathers and bleeding leg, Castiel reached the extinguisher first and fired a stream of blinding foam into their faces. They fought to clear their vision, but time was up and Castiel lodged two bullets into each of them._

_Still, he didn’t take time to catch his breath. He hurtled towards the tracks and crashed onto them gracelessly before grabbing the undetonated bomb and hurling it into the dark tunnel at the end of the station. It bounced twice and all was blissfully silent for six seconds before a brain-rattling **boom** shook the station’s foundations, quickly accompanied by a violent flare of fire and smoke, which devoured the entire tunnel, leaving nothing but rubble and dust in its wake._

_As the flames danced over what remained of the tracks, Castiel finally slid to the floor with a groan and tears prickling his eyes._

_There was silence for a whole two minutes before one-by-one, people slowly began to applaud._

_Castiel closed his eyes and pressed his back against the nose of the train. He would forever consider that day as his first in the field._

*             *             *

 

It was just after lunch when a rather enthusiastic knock sounded at the door.

Samandriel had long since given up trying to understand the constant stream of English onscreen and had resorted to his sketchpad. Dean only had half an eye on the TV as he peered over Samandriel’s shoulder curiously and watched the boy draw what appeared to be an outline of the Impala. He watched, impressed as the little angel added more and more detail to the outline before beginning to shade certain sections in and he didn’t notice Castiel observing them both with an amused smile from the other couch.

He nearly jolted off the couch at the knock and he realised exactly how far he had been leaning forwards as he scrambled for purchase on one of the cushions. He missed Castiel’s tiny grin and glared at the door as though it had offended him deeply. He wasn’t expecting visitors.

The knock sounded more impatient on the second round and he made his way over, opening the door a crack and preparing to slam it shut in the faces of any salesmen.

“Dean-o!”

Dean grunted as the door flung open, catapulting him back a few steps as a familiar omega burst through, trailed by four equally familiar faces. By the time Dean righted himself, the five were standing in his living room, glancing around in stunned confusion.              

“Hey, where did all the dust go?”

Dean frowned at the comment and flicked his gaze briefly to Castiel and Samandriel, who were staring in horror at their visitors, wings raised in warning and halos somewhere between white and silver. Dean’s gaze turned worried before he refocused on the omega who had barged past him earlier.              

“Gabriel. What are you doing here?”

The golden-winged angel grinned and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Ask our butler.” Then he turned to the other occupants in the room and his face lit up, halo burning gold. “Why, hello! You must be Dean’s dirty, little secrets!” He scuttled towards them, followed by three older angels whom looked just as curious as the shortest.              

“Wait-” began Dean, reaching out towards them, but a hand clamped around his shoulder and he spun around to find Sam glaring at him with a stormy expression.              

“We need to talk,” growled Sam, scent a muted kind of anger that Dean could tell his brother was carefully controlling for the sake of the angels, but losing his hold on with every passing second.              

“About what?” hissed Dean, panic rising as his gaze flicked to the four angels approaching a very tense Samandriel and Castiel. He tried to sidestep his brother, but Sam was oblivious to the problem behind him and he cut Dean off, looming over him with a soft warning growl.              

Dean glared at his brother again, unimpressed (and frankly irritated) by his posturing and he squared his jaw and shoved his brother’s chest lightly.              

“Don’t threaten me in my own house,” he said lowly and with a narrowed gaze and Sam at least had the decency to duck his head a little.              

“I don’t know how else to make you listen,” Sam huffed as Dean’s gaze slid to the disaster behind him. Castiel’s wings were splaying higher and wider with every step Gabriel and his brothers took and when the golden-winged angel crouched down to talk to a wide-eyed Samandriel, Dean felt his own pulse begin to race.              

“Dean, look at me!” snapped Sam and Dean’s round eyes flitted back to his brother, expression frozen in a combination of worry and annoyance.              

“Can you just hold on a sec?” asked Dean. “And get your angels away from mine?”

Immediately, Sam bristled and Dean knew his brother had taken his request the wrong way. “They’re not dogs,” hissed Sam but whatever else he might have chewed Dean out for died before it reached his lips because suddenly, there was a yelp followed by an almighty _thwack_ of something heavy hitting the wooden floor and a second later there was a rustle of feathers and a couple of deep snarls.              

Sam whipped around and Dean could finally take in the whole scene. Gabriel was on the floor, rubbing the back of his head and glaring up at Castiel spitefully as the other omega spanned his wings intimidatingly, halo a stark black speckled with white. He had pulled Samandriel behind him and the boy was glaring just as heatedly back at Gabriel, wings and halo mirroring his father’s.              

Across from them, the remaining three angels – Gabriel’s brothers – had raised their wings at Castiel, tips curled forward into an attacking position. Their halos were pure black and the two alphas bared their teeth at Castiel whilst the beta merely narrowed his eyes.              

“What the…” Sam trailed off in shock as Dean pushed past his brother and wedged himself between Gabriel and Castiel, one hand poised in mid-air in an effort to calm the three protective angels ready to start a brawl with Castiel.              

“Easy,” said Dean, positioning himself in front of Castiel and cutting him from their line of sight. “Everybody calm down.”              

“Calm down?” seethed Gabriel. “Your little psycho pet just attacked me for no reason!”

Dean grit his teeth. “Well, maybe if you knew all the stuff he’s been through, you’d-” He cut himself off and snapped his mouth shut, remembering the conversation he’d had with Castiel about referring to him as though he wasn’t there or couldn’t understand what they were discussing merely because he couldn’t physically speak about his trauma. From the corner of his eye, he watched Castiel’s wings sag a little and he frowned at himself before starting again.              

“Hey, how would you like it if some random stranger barged into your home and started poking at your kid? Do you think you’d be happy?” he huffed at Gabriel and the angel opened his mouth to protest, then pulled a face and remained quiet.              

“And you,” Dean grumbled, turning his attention to Gabriel’s brothers. “Cool it. Are you seriously going to maul the guy in his own home, in front of his kid? Just chill out. I’m not cleaning bloodstains off the couch.”              

The tallest angel, one with bronze wings and a distinctly alpha scent, snorted and crossed his arms. “It’s not like you ever clean anything anyway.”              

Dean mimed the other alpha’s words sarcastically before rolling his eyes and offering a hand to Gabriel. The omega took it and Dean pulled him to his feet.              

“Guys, this is Castiel and Samandriel,” he introduced, gesturing to both angels in turn before moving his focus to the two wary omegas and softening his tone. “The omega with gold wings is Gabriel, the alpha with silver wings is Michael, the alpha with copper wings is Lucifer, and the beta with pink wings is Raphael.”              

“Rose-gold!” Raphael protested indignantly, making Gabriel snort.

“Pink,” smirked Lucifer, prompting Raphael to smack him over the head with one feathery appendage.              

Dean ignored their antics and gazed at Castiel and Samandriel in encouragement.

 ** _“They’re good people. A bit annoying but they’re like brothers to me,”_** he whispered in Enochian, watching Castiel’s wings slowly lower themselves into a neutral position, his halo shining pure silver. Samandriel was far less trusting and he kept his wings raised as he glowered at the four.              

Dean gently tapped his shoulder, keeping an eye on Castiel’s expression as Samandriel flinched and looked up at him.

 ** _“They won’t hurt you,”_** he promised softly. **_“And even if they tried, I wouldn’t let them.”_**               

Finally, Samandriel lowered his wings and shuffled a little closer to his father.

 ** _“Tell them to go away,”_** Samandriel whispered, gaze pleading as he looked up at Dean. Castiel carded his fingers through a white, speckled wing soothingly.              

 ** _“We didn’t mean to frighten you,”_** said a new voice and Dean turned to find Michael shifting his weight awkwardly and all four angels looking sheepish.              

 ** _“Yeah, sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to scare you,”_** admitted Gabriel embarrassedly, which was unusual for the omega. He tended to thrive on disturbing and humiliating the people around him. Watching him scratch the back of his neck uncomfortably and shuffle his feet was somewhat of a jaw-dropper.              

Gabriel quickly shook off the expression and offered Castiel a lop-sided grin. He extended his arm as a peace offering and asked a question that Dean had no hopes of translating.              

Castiel eyed the hand and nodded his head once but refused to shake. Gabriel deflated a little but accepted the truce anyway and plopped onto the couch behind Castiel, entirely oblivious of the other omega’s wariness. After a moment or so, Castiel and Samandriel settled into the furthest reaches of the same couch as the other angels took the bigger one and the four angelic brothers began asking tentative questions.              

Dean was about to take the third, remaining couch but was abruptly yanked into the kitchen by his brother.

“Seriously?” hissed Sam as he closed the door behind them.              

Dean scowled at him in confusion. “What?”

Sam gestured to the living room. “He just pile-drived Gabe into the floor!”              

Dean snorted and figured that since he was in the kitchen, might as well make himself useful. He grabbed some mugs and started filling them with coffee granules, tea or chocolate powder. “Your boyfriend’s fine. Tell him to stop getting so handsy with complete strangers.”              

Sam’s teeth grated together. “He’s not my boyfriend. And how about you tell Castiel to stop attacking complete strangers?”              

Dean rolled his eyes and turned to his brother. “Do you blame him after everything he’s faced? Gabe barges in and starts prodding at his son… I think he has a right to get a little protective.”              

“ _’A little protective?’_ Dean, the guy hulked out! You’ve gotta know that’s not a normal response to someone introducing themselves? Gabe was being friendly and he got taken out for it,” snapped Sam. “Castiel is dangerous and you know it. Why are you so intent on protecting him? You barely know him!”              

Dean bristled, scent beginning to flood the room despite him attempting to hold his anger back. “He’s not dangerous,” hissed Dean. “He’s been treated badly and he’s trying his best in a shitty situation. He’s hurting, Sam. Him and his kid. I’m trying to help them.”              

“By doing what?” growled Sam. “Putting yourself at risk? Letting him use you as a punching bag?” He gestured to the fading bruise on Dean’s cheek and Dean turned away with a clenched jaw, focusing on the mugs.              

“I told you not to come here. I told you that they were skittish. Why do you always do the opposite of what I tell you?”              

“Because I was worried about you!” snarled Sam. “I was worried that my brother would be dead by the end of the week just because his heart is bigger than his brain! And in all of the six minutes I’ve spent here, Castiel has confirmed my fears! He is going to hurt you, Dean. Or worse!”              

“They’re scared, Sam!” seethed Dean, rounding on his brother and the younger alpha shrunk back a little at the overpowering scent of fury wafting from his brother. “They’ve had everything taken from them! You’ve read the case files; you’ve seen what was done to them! And when we finally got them out, they were thrown into that hostel and separated for three months! _Three months!_ When Samandriel needed his dad the most, he was told that his only parent was too vicious and couldn’t be trusted to not kill him. They barely leave each other’s side here.” Dean shook his head angrily. “I’m not letting them toss Castiel into some mental home whilst his son lives in some other guy’s house and Samandriel prays every night that he won’t get… touched or molested or whatever. They’re staying here!”              

Sam reared back as Dean slammed the cupboard closed and stormed his way over to the fridge for milk.

“I have seen their case files,” said Sam quietly. “I’ve seen what’s been done to them, which is why I’m worried about you. You don’t even know what Castiel’s power is. It looks as though he’s already punched you once; you have no idea what else he’s capable of.”              

“Why is this such a big deal?” grumbled Dean. “You adopted four angels and they could have easily teamed up against you. Why is Castiel suddenly so dangerous?”              

Sam scowled. “Because Mike, Luc, Raph and Gabe were all certified for living in human society. Castiel was rejected due to aggression.”              

Dean placed the milk on the counter and stared at it for a moment, scent morphing from anger to weariness.

“Why are you so invested in them?” asked Sam softly and Dean closed his eyes and sighed.              

“I don’t know. Maybe you’re right; maybe I’m lonely. Maybe I’m bitter about Lisa and Mom and Dad…” He shook his head and turned around, leaning against the counter as he dropped his gaze to the tiled floor. “The kid reminds me of myself. Sometimes he reminds me of you but then he’ll roll his eyes or sass me or cling to his dad and I just… I get these memories of being ten years old and having Mom around. He does things and I… I see my own childhood. I guess a see a little part of myself in him and I remember what it was like to lose Mom and then Dad, and I don’t want him to go through that.”              

He finally met his brother’s shocked gaze. “If I can stop them from being torn apart, then I will.”

Sam didn’t speak for a long time, considering Dean’s monologue and the longer the silence stretched on, the redder Dean’s cheeks became. He finished making the drinks and was about to escape the kitchen when Sam grabbed a few mugs and caught his gaze.              

“Be careful around them, okay? Any trouble, you call me. Don’t try to be a hero.”

Dean blinked at his brother and Sam offered him an uncomfortable smile before vacating the kitchen. Dean stared at the remaining mugs in surprise before trailing after his brother.              

He wandered into the living room to find Castiel and Samandriel looking somewhat more relaxed as Gabriel weaved a ridiculous tale about something that had happened to the brothers back on Heaven, and Dean shook his head as Gabriel’s whole body moved with the story – wings fluttering and halo dimming and fading its golden hue at different sections as his arms waved exaggeratedly for emphasis. The omega was expressive with both his body and voice and Castiel listened silently as Samandriel’s eyes widened, his lips parting slightly as his own wings began to respond to whatever crazy story Gabriel was telling.              

Dean distributed drinks wordlessly and bit back a snort at Sam’s soppy smile and warm gaze as he watched Gabriel’s enthusiastic story-telling.              

As he sat down, Raphael grinned at him, silently letting Dean know that they were all aware of Sam’s huge, fat crush on their brother. Dean shook his head in amusement and downed half of his coffee.              

When Gabriel came to the end of his story, Raphael broke into the conversation before he could start another.

“Since we’re in Dean’s house, maybe we should speak in a language he can fluently understand?” he suggested and Dean watched Castiel’s hand slide over to Samandriel’s, their fingers brushing lightly. Samandriel’s confused expression quickly cleared and he smiled up at his father, grateful for the mental translation.              

“Must we?” drawled Lucifer. “Since he lives with two angels of his own now, shouldn’t he be practicing his Enochian?”

“Shouldn’t you be nice to me since you’re drinking my coffee and moulting over my couches?” Dean countered, reaching down to pick up a bronze feather for emphasis.              

“Someone’s touchy. Tell me, Dean… what is it that’s really bothering you?” Lucifer purred. “What did Sam drag you into the kitchen for?”

Dean’s mind went abruptly blank and his lips moved without him telling them what to say as he stared into the angel’s eyes.              

“He didn’t understand why I signed Castiel’s papers and he’s worried that I’ll get hurt,” said Dean and then, the fog in his mind cleared and all his turbulent thoughts and stresses came rushing back to him. He scowled at the other alpha.              

“Damn it, Lucifer! How many times do I have to tell you to quit using your mojo on me?”

Lucifer wasn’t listening and he regarded Castiel curiously as Sam’s cheeks flushed pink and the black-winged angel shot him an unimpressed glance.              

“Why do you always have the worst timing with your little trick?” Sam grumbled embarrassedly.

Lucifer smirked. “If you knew it would get you into trouble, you shouldn’t have said it, Winchester. You know I can get the truth out of anyone any time I like.”              

“Yeah, but why did you have to call me out like this?”

Gabriel tutted at the younger Winchester as Lucifer smiled lazily and Michael and Raphael cast their gazes to any space that wasn’t occupied by something breathing. Sam’s cheeks flamed as he turned his attention to Castiel.              

“…It’s not that I don’t trust you, man. It’s just…”

“You think he’s a violent lunatic?” suggested Lucifer.              

Sam glowered at him before turning apologetic eyes on Castiel. “I’m sorry. I just… worry about my brother. He doesn’t always make the best decisions.”              

“Ooo, smooth, Winchester,” hummed Lucifer and Sam grimaced.

“That came out wrong. What I meant was-”              

“What he meant was he’s going to shut up because he’s an idiot and never learned any manners,” interrupted Dean gruffly, smiling wryly when Sam’s jaw clicked shut.              

“Anywho, now that train wreck is over,” drawled Gabriel. “Where are you from, Castiel? Where did you grow up?”

Castiel tilted his head and a moment later, Samandriel perked up.              

“Eden,” the younger omega said.

Gabriel flicked his gaze down to the child with a smile. “Which zone?”              

There was a pause before Samandriel sounded out carefully, “Zone Epsilon.”

Gabriel’s smile fell along with his brothers’. Dean didn’t understand the shift in mood but he gathered that maybe ‘Zone Epsilon’ wasn’t a fantastic place to live.              

“Oh. Cool,” Gabriel said with absolutely no enthusiasm. Samandriel dropped his gaze and Castiel shifted awkwardly before gesturing pointedly to Gabriel.              

Sam must have informed the angels that Castiel was mute because Gabriel didn’t question the lack of words and merely raised an eyebrow. “Where am I from?”              

Castiel nodded.

Gabriel leaned back against the couch, hands clasped together loosely. “Caulk.”              

Castiel nodded lightly and tipped his head to one side in another silent query. Gabriel smiled grimly.

“In East Gate.”              

Castiel nodded, then his eyes grew comically wide and his jaw dropped and his gaze flicked rapidly between the four brothers. He suddenly scrambled off the sofa and kneeled down on one knee before bowing his head low, wings pinned to his back.              

Dean’s brows furrowed at the strange scene and he glanced to Gabriel for an explanation, only to find all four brothers looking distinctly uncomfortable.              

“Don’t do that,” Michael said quietly and when Castiel continued to stare at the floor, he frowned. “Please stand up.”

Castiel raised his head before standing slowly, wings twitching nervously behind him.              

“What was that?” demanded Sam, glancing at the brothers expectantly. “Why’d he bow to you?”

“…He recognises our home sector,” mumbled Raphael, sounding subdued. “It’s… well-known throughout the Silver City.”              

Sam tilted his head. “Why?”

“Because it’s housed the past nineteen generations of Caulk princes and princesses,” huffed Lucifer. “And all their royal servants.”              

Sam raised his eyebrows, impressed and Dean watched the epiphany steal over his brother’s expression as Sam’s eyes widened and his jaw fell slack.              

“Wait… are you saying that you guys are…?”

“Next in-line to govern Caulk?” grumbled Gabriel. “Yeah. Technically, when Dad kicked it, Mikey should have been ruler. We fled before someone could slap a crown on him.”              

Sam’s voice raised in pitch, his eyeballs nearly popping out of his skull. “And I’m just finding out about this _now_?”

Michael twiddled his thumbs like a schoolchild. “We didn’t want you treating us like royalty?”              

Sam stared at him horrified. “I slapped you with a greasy tea-towel.”

Michael shot him an amused smile. “I was a brat in those first few months.”              

“I sprayed you all with the hose,” whispered Sam.

Raphael chuckled softly. “We probably deserved it.”              

“Wait, so you fled Heaven before Michael could be crowned?” asked Dean. “Why?”

Castiel slowly slid his way over to the couch again and placed his hand over Samandriel’s. The child’s eyes widened and he balked at the older angels, causing them all to look uncomfortable again.              

Michael scowled. “The Silver City was at war with Purgatory, or as you call it… ‘Hell’. Our father was determined to be the big hero and single-handedly wipe out a large chunk of their forces but in order to do that, he had to devise a complicated plan, which would involve using three of our largest towns as bait and thus sentence their populations to gruesome deaths at the hands of demons. We would have effectively wiped out approximately fifteen percent of our own population and this had been discussed amongst various kings and queens throughout the Silver City, all of whom had agreed to the plan.              

“After he set everything up and the three towns’ royalty had been evacuated, all that was left to do was to wait for the agreed date to ‘let it slip’ that all our major weapons and military bases were scattered through the towns of Eden, Biblion and Opulus. They weren’t, of course, but it would distract the demon forces enough for what our father wanted.”              

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “Except dear old Dad met a rather untimely demise at the hands of too much liquor and Michael was to be hastily crowned leader two days before the Big Plan was supposed to go ahead. Everyone assumed that he would follow in our father’s footsteps and sacrifice the three towns.”              

“What they didn’t realise was that I had no intention of becoming anything like either of our parents,” said Michael lowly. “They pitted Lucifer and me against one another from the day Luci was born and as children, they used our powers as weapons of war. When Raphael was born, Father accused Mother of having an affair and made Raph suffer for it all his life.”              

“Turns out that it was his great, great grandfather who came from out of town,” said Raphael bitterly, gaze lowered to his hands as though his own skin had offended him and Lucifer slid a wing around him protectively, a soft growl slipping past his lips. Raphael smiled up at him gratefully and leaned into his side.              

“And then Gabriel was born as an omega and both Mother and Father could barely stand to look at him,” continued Michael, quieter as Gabriel’s wings flicked sadly. “They tried to teach us that we were somehow better than him as we had been born alphas and betas. Told us we were stronger and smarter and more valuable to society, whilst they tried to lock Gabriel away and hide him from the people.”              

Sam rumbled lowly in anger, gaze turned to the floor and Dean had a feeling that his brother already knew some of the angels’ history, even if he hadn’t known about their status as royals. Dean had vaguely known that the angels had been abused somehow by their parents and that they had fled Heaven because of it. He knew that Heaven regarded omegas as lower than dirt and he knew that they had to be owned by an alpha. He knew they barely had any rights and he knew that most of Heaven was corrupt. He just hadn’t realised how terrible it actually was. He flicked his gaze to Castiel and found the omega staring at his lap as though trapped in similar memories, and his heart ached.              

“I didn’t want to be known as the king who committed mass genocide, so my brothers and I fled town and when our people chased us and called us ‘deserters’, our lords and ladies intent on forcing us to finish what our father started by any means necessary… we left the planet and didn’t look back,” finished Michael.              

Gabriel glanced over his shoulder at Sam and offered him a warm, appreciative smile. “And then we met a kind-hearted, sympathetic human who took good care of us and swore he would protect us despite barely knowing anything about us.”              

Sam returned the smile, gaze glistening with affection and the three older angels rolled their eyes in exasperation.

Samandriel suddenly chirped something in Enochian but the question was over too quickly for Dean to focus on it and translate so he waited for the response instead, hoping it was nothing offensive.              

“Our powers?” hummed Gabriel with a grin. “Well…”

Suddenly, he morphed into a white, fox-like creature with blue extremities, oversized ears and two pairs of short, white wings sprouting from its back. He made an odd sound, somewhere between a bird call and a dolphin chitter and he bounced off the couch and flapped his wings, swishing his tail happily as he hovered in mid-air. A second later, he was a striking red parrot and he perched on the arm of the couch and whistled excitedly. When Dean next blinked, he was an angel again, one leg cocked casually over the other as he nestled into the couch.              

“I can shapeshift,” Gabriel grinned, winking at Samandriel when the boy’s eyes brightened. “You already know Luci can force the truth out of people. Raph is good at making people see things that aren’t really there, like scorpions and naked women.”              

Raphael pulled a face and Gabriel snickered and continued. “And Mikey… he can predict the future. Well, a bit of the future. I think the most he’s ever seen is up to four days, but he can’t control it all that well.”              

“I couldn’t see your plan to dye my wings purple,” Michael grumbled and Gabriel’s smirk widened.

“So, what about you, kid? What’s your power?”              

Samandriel shrugged shyly. **_“I can understand animals. But only when I’m touching them and I can’t talk back to them.”_**               

Gabriel nodded and gestured to Castiel and Samandriel’s brushing hands. “So, is that why you’re holding your dad’s hand? Is he translating the English for you and you can hear it in his head?”              

After a delay, Samandriel nodded and smiled and Gabriel grinned back before glancing at Castiel.

“What about you, handsome? What’s your superpower?”              

Castiel’s face suddenly closed off and he turned away, wings folding tensely behind his back. Dean raised an eyebrow as Gabriel’s expression dimmed.              

“I mean… you don’t have to show us. You can write it if you want,” said Gabriel weakly, confused when the other angel refused to meet his gaze.              

 ** _“He doesn’t like to talk about it,”_** mumbled Samandriel, eyes lowered.

Gabriel faltered and Dean cocked his head slightly as his curiosity grew. Sam shot him a pointed glance, which Dean resolutely ignored.              

“That’s fine,” shrugged Raphael. “What was your job back on the Silver City?”

Conversation flowed smoothly after Raphael’s quick thinking, although Dean was intrigued. What was Castiel hiding? What kind of power could the angel possibly be ashamed of?              

Sam and the angels stayed a lot later than any of them had anticipated and they ended up ordering Chinese takeout for dinner. It was pleasant and fun and Dean couldn’t help but smile at seeing the house full of so much life once again. Even Castiel and Samandriel appeared to appreciate the company, despite the silver spattering their halos and the way they ensured to stay clear of the other occupants of the room. Gabriel’s closeness was tolerated, most likely because he was an omega, but even he wasn’t allowed too near.              

Yet, both angels wore small smiles by the end of the night and despite Sam’s warning glare before he climbed into the car, Dean felt hopeful.

 

*             *             *

 

Ten days after Castiel and Samandriel had been introduced into the Winchester household, Dean trudged in from work to find the youngest angel sprawled over the floor, sketchpad and pencils discarded by his side as he frowned unhappily at the television. It was playing some overly noisy, energetic kid’s show that made Dean’s head throb and his lips pull into a grimace, so he ignored it in favour of kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket behind the door. His gaze wandered to Samandriel of their own accord and he watched the little angel’s wings flick and shift irritably, his halo peppered with black amongst a wash of brown.              

By now, Dean was fairly certain that black denoted anger or annoyance, but he had only seen flashes of brown in Samandriel’s halo previously, so he had no idea what the associated emotion was. Still, Samandriel continued to focus on the vibrant images and the cartoon’s inane babble and the longer he did, the blacker his halo grew, until finally he slapped his wings against the ground and made a noise of frustration. He switched off the TV moodily and returned to his sketchpad.              

Dean glanced between the pouting angel and the silent TV before he frowned and slowly made his way over.

 ** _“What’s wrong?”_** Dean asked in poorly pronounced Enochian and Samandriel sent him a grumpy glare before sighing.              

 ** _“Nothing,”_** he grumbled, shading his latest sketch disinterestedly.

Dean stared at the television as though it would provide the answer. When nothing came to mind, he shrugged.              

 ** _“Nothing on?”_** he asked, gesturing to the TV.

 ** _“Don’t understand it,”_** grumbled Samandriel and finally Dean realised why the boy was upset. It must have been very isolating to live in an English-speaking country, with English-speaking shows and books and music when you didn’t understand the first thing about English. It wasn’t as if Dean could hold a great conversation in Enochian and Castiel couldn’t speak at all. Poor Samandriel must have felt quite lonely.              

However, Dean knew a little bit of Enochian and he shuffled into the kitchen to find a notepad and pen. He returned a moment later and plopped onto the floor, startling Samandriel.              

Dean began drawing the English alphabet and when he was finished, he passed the pad to a confused Samandriel.

“A,” he said, pointing to the corresponding drawing on the page and Samandriel blinked before he perked up in realisation.              

“A,” the young angel repeated.

Dean offered him a lop-sided smile. “B.”              

They continued all the way to ‘Z’ and once they were finished, Dean tore the page out and held it up for Samandriel to see. He pointed to the letter ‘A’ again and tapped the notepad.              

“A,” he said again and Samandriel nodded, quickly understanding as he began to draw out the letter.

“B,” Dean said, tapping the space next to Samandriel’s ‘A’ and the boy’s lips quirked upwards as he drew out the new letter.              

Once again, they repeated the pattern all the way to ‘Z’ and then, Dean hid the first page and folded Samandriel’s work over to expose and clean page.              

“A,” Dean said, tapping on the page and Samandriel stared at him, almost panicked, before Dean offered him a reassuring smile and Samandriel began tracing out an ‘A’ without a reference. They made their way through the alphabet and soon, Dean began to shout out random letters, correcting Samandriel when he drew the wrong one and grinning when he got them right. It wasn’t long before they moved onto lowercase letters and Samandriel groaned upon realising that all twenty-six letters had alternative drawings. Dean chuckled and taught the lowercase letters in exactly the same way as the uppercase letters, and a couple of hours later, Samandriel knew them by heart and their Enochian equivalents.              

That’s how Castiel found them; spread over the floor and surrounded by pages and pages of English and Enochian letters. Dean was calling phrases like “Big F” or “Small S” or sometimes just “Buh” and “Huh” and Samandriel’s tongue poked between his lips as he scribbled the letters down and passed the pad to Dean to check.              

Castiel watched the pair in surprise and his eyes widened upon spotting Samandriel’s fingers lightly touching Dean’s, both of them chuckling as Dean made the occasional comment in English and Samandriel replied in simple Enochian.              

Dean finally noticed Castiel’s presence and he grinned at the older angel as Samandriel’s wings fluttered and his halo shone yellow with the barest hints of gold.              

 ** _“Dean’s teaching me the alphabet! He says I’m a really fast learner,”_** beamed Samandriel and Castiel nodded slowly, still in a state of shock.              

“Reflection of his amazing teacher,” winked Dean and Samandriel paused before shoving his shoulder with a scoff.

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the contact and how a week ago, Samandriel wouldn’t have dreamed of touching him.              

Castiel’s gaze lingered on them a moment longer before a small smile crept over his features and he perched on a couch and produced a half-filled notepad from his jeans pocket. He scribbled out a message and when he revealed it, there was both an English phrase and its Enochian translation nestled on the page.

 

 _Impress me_  
**_Zacam ol_ **

****

Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded and Samandriel glanced at him impatiently. Before Dean could say the first letter, Castiel hit his pad with his pen a few times and Dean turned to him in query. The older angel pointed to their joined fingertips and made a shooing motion with his hands before scratching out a new message.

 

 _No cheating_  
**_Ag vabar_ **

****

Samandriel rolled his eyes and drew his hand away and Dean felt his smile widening at both angels’ playfulness. He turned to Samandriel and his face turned solemn.              

“Big S.”

Samandriel quickly traced the letter and Dean said, “Little A.”              

By the time he had finished his quick-fire letters, Samandriel had a word printed across his page. Oblivious, he showed his father and Castiel bit back a smile and offered him a thumbs-up. When Samandriel placed the pad on the floor again, Dean brushed his finger over the word.              

“Samandriel,” he said slowly and the boy looked up at him patiently before he understood and flicked his gaze down to the sequence of letters again. He pointed to himself and Dean nodded and suddenly, the boy beamed and brushed his fingers over the page. Then, he shoved the pencil and pad to Dean and stared up at him expectantly.              

Dean wrote his own name and revealed it to Samandriel and the boy’s wings fluttered again as he began writing out both his and Dean’s names until he could remember how to spell them.              

Dean watched Samandriel’s halo shine a little brighter, flakes of gold infecting the sea of yellow and his heart warmed as he inhaled the faint, happy scent of pears and cinnamon and the barest hint of rainforests after a storm. Samandriel and Castiel had such comforting scents and he wished he could bury his nose into the young angel’s neck and tell him how safe he was in Dean’s home.              

Instead, he smiled warmly at the angel and hoped he got the message anyway.

He missed Castiel’s soft gaze and by the time he stood and announced that he was going to make dinner, Castiel was focused on Samandriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit more of a look at Castiel's past


	7. Building Bridges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at bottom

_“You know… just because you killed a couple of demons one time, it doesn’t mean that you’re a gift to the Silver City.”_

_Castiel ignored his leader and focused on the looming, abandoned warehouse ahead of them. The area was deceptively quiet and the only light guiding their path in the dark cloak of nightfall was the moon peeking out from between the trees that surrounded them. The warehouse creaked against the gentle wind, its steel walls rusted and flaking and Castiel felt the first few spots of rain graze his nose._

_“Maybe now would be a good time to go back to the van,” continued Inias, voice barely a whisper. “Let the real officers do their jobs.”_

_In response to the sneered comment, Castiel flipped his visor down and plucked his gun from its holster. He twirled it around his fingers for a brief moment just to watch Inias’ face twist in irritation and he smiled behind his helmet, pleased by the fact that his leader couldn’t see the smug expression._

_They reached a side door and upon tugging it, found it locked._

_“Anael,” commanded Inias and a tall alpha with wings that mirrored dancing flames stepped forwards and placed her hand against the door. The door clicked and groaned as it unlocked itself and the small team of angels pushed inside the warehouse._

_They separated, some taking the stairs and others exploring the ground floor. Castiel followed Inias, Anael and a young, brazen beta named Ishim to the second floor. They parted as pairs with Inias and Castiel taking the third and final floor and Anael and Ishim scouring the second._

_The building clearly hadn’t been used in years if the spider nests were anything to go by and the roof leaked water and various sludges that had built up on top of it over the years. The rain thundered against the corrugated metal, echoing within the walls of the warehouse and shattering the silence._

_Guns drawn and bullet-proof clothing weighing them down, Inias and Castiel stalked through the top floor, scanning the area for any signs of the demon terrorists they had been tipped off about._

_“They’re not here,” growled Inias after twenty minutes of tense quiet and he headed towards the stairs, intent on regrouping with the remainder of the team. Castiel remained silent as he followed his leader and they met the rest of the team on the second floor, each angel shaking their head in the negative when Inias asked if they had found anything._

_Castiel could smell Inias’ agitation and he could see as much in his flicking wings. Ramiel and his team had been given a similar assignment in some run-down community hall a week ago and they had killed two conspiring demons and captured a third. Inias was obviously irritated by his own team coming up empty-handed._

_“Place is a bust,” shrugged Ishim. “Let’s go.”_

_Inias glowered at him but begrudgingly nodded and led them towards the exit._

_A rustle caught Castiel’s attention and he raised his gun again, whirling to face what he thought was the source – a bare wall. He lowered his gun slightly and frowned in confusion._

_“See a ghost, Castiel?” Ishim scoffed._

_Castiel ignored him and edged carefully towards the wall, scenting the air as he did so. Behind him, Ishim smirked and stalked closer before finally pouncing on Castiel with a yelled, “Boo!”_

_Castiel startled, dropping his gun as his wings flared outwards. Ishim laughed and a few of the others joined in as Castiel bent down to retrieve his gun._

_“See, this is why omegas shouldn’t be recruited into the Garrison,” drawled Ishim. “You’re a bunch of fragile cowards. It’s why you need alphas and betas to protect you.” He turned to the rest of his team with a grin and tossed over his shoulder, “Should’ve stayed in the kitchen, sugarwings.”_

_As Castiel straightened again and was about to holster his gun, he noticed it – four screws lined up neatly in front of the panel to his left, almost as though they had been placed. He raked his gaze over the panel directly in front of him and realised that there wasn’t a single screw holding it in place._

_Eyes widening, he flipped his visor down again and sidestepped to the left, away from the panel. He flapped his wings to garner the attention of his team and they stared at him in a mixture of amusement and exasperation as he readied his gun and glanced down to the blade at his hip._

_“Castiel, what are you doing-” began Inias but he was cut off by Castiel kicking at the loose panel and it clattering to the floor and revealing two snarling demons, each wielding guns of their own and daggers attached to their hips._

_Inias shouted in alarm and the female demon with dark green wings burst forward and slapped a leathery appendage at Castiel’s hands, making him lose aim. The second demon, this one male with grey wings, rocketed forwards and leaped into the air before firing a blind shot towards the group of stunned angels near the exit._

_There was a heavy thud and cries of despair but Castiel wasn’t looking at the damage and as the green-winged demon tried to make a run for it, he spread his wing wide and yanked her backwards, making her gag in the process as the hard bone of his wing hit her throat. He pinned her against his chest with a strong arm and slotted the barrel of his weapon against her skull before glancing up to her friend, who was about to pull the trigger for a second time on the rest of Castiel’s team._

_“Drop the weapon or I shoot,” threatened Castiel and the male demon looked torn for a moment, but eventually landed and placed his gun on the floor, hands raised in surrender._

_A second later and he collapsed to the ground, blood pooling around his head from the hole in his skull._

_“Rioc!” cried the woman in Castiel’s arms, tears skating down her cheeks. She struggled against Castiel’s hold but the angel held firm despite his shock at the death of the other demon. He twisted his head to find Inias lowering his gun and looking murderous._

_“Shoot her,” he commanded._

_Castiel blinked as the woman stilled, the stench of fear and grief rolling off her. “…Shouldn’t we at least question her? Ask if there are others here?” he asked with a frown._

_“Shoot her, Castiel. That’s an order,” snarled Inias and the woman began to tremble in Castiel’s grip, sobs escaping her throat._

_“But she could-”_

_“They killed Ishim!” Inias roared, wings spanned wide and halo a stark black. “Now either shoot her or I will!”_

_Castiel stared at Inias for a moment longer before turning to the crying demon. With a dry throat and a sick feeling in his stomach he pulled the trigger and watched her slump to the floor gracelessly._

_Inias stared coldly at the lifeless body before returning his focus to Ishim’s face, forever frozen in an expression of shock at the hole between his eyes. It was amazing that the demon had even managed to hit the only part of him that hadn’t been tucked away behind bullet-proof armour._

_Their leader took Ishim gently into his arms and stalked out of the building without a word. The remainder of his team glanced at one another helplessly before making their way over to the bodies to clean up._

_Not one of them would meet Castiel’s gaze._

*             *             *

 

“On… Tuesday he ate through two… pears but he was still hungry,” said Samandriel stiltedly, finger stopping at each word as he spoke it, brows furrowed and lips turned downwards in intense concentration. He paused and looked to Dean. “Hungry?”              

It had been three weeks since the angels first arrived at Dean’s home. The alpha had tried to be as accommodating as possible and when Samandriel had shown an interest in learning English, Dean had taught him something new every day. Sometimes, he wasn’t able to do much after coming home late from work, but over the weekend, he was able to spend hours upon hours teaching Samandriel until the boy told him that he wanted to stop. Samandriel even taught him some more Enochian.              

Surprisingly, Dean really enjoyed his time spent with Samandriel and it brought back memories of his childhood with Sam and how he used to teach his little brother new words or help him with his homework or show him how to milk a cow until eventually, Sam surpassed him and earned a scholarship at college.              

Dean smiled to himself. His little brother was one smart cookie. A lot smarter than him.

Over the past few days, Dean had begun to teach Samandriel other things too, like how to bake muffins and clean out a stable properly and how to pick out Hera’s hooves. Samandriel absorbed it all like a particularly efficient sponge and yesterday morning, Dean and Castiel had wandered down to the stable to turn Hera out, only to find that she was already grazing in the field, her stable had been cleaned and Samandriel was trying valiantly to tie up a hay net that was nearly the same size as him.              

The more time Dean spent with Samandriel, the more he found himself smiling or chuckling over the boy’s antics or past memories of himself and when he smiled, so did Samandriel. Dean had never really thought about having children but when he was around Samandriel, he realised he didn’t mind the idea of being a father one day, despite how his own father had been with him in those last few years.              

Dean rubbed his stomach and pointed towards his open mouth and Samandriel’s eyes brightened in understanding as he returned to the brightly coloured book and began the next sentence.              

“On… Wednesday he ate through three plums but he was still hungry.”

Dean relaxed into the couch as he listened. He placed his hand on Samandriel’s back and idly rubbed at his spine before massaging the bases of his scarred wings as he mused over all the junk that he had found in one of the storage sheds. He knew his mom had kept some of his and Sam’s childhood toys and books, but he hadn’t realised just how much she had hoarded – sports trophies and medals, spelling bee certificates, old videogames, the guitar Dean had played maybe three times before never touching it again. Some of it was damp or riddled with spider eggs, but most things could be dusted down and reused and a lot of the toys and books, with some cleaning of course, could be handed down to Samandriel. Actually, Dean wouldn’t mind reminiscing about some of those toys; after all, he’d had a great imagination as a child, especially when it came to his toy cars.              

He realised that Samandriel had stopped reading and he turned to the boy, wondering if he had noticed that Dean had zoned out, but froze when he saw that Samandriel had stiffened and was breathing too quickly, eyes glazed over. He glanced at his own hand and cursed under his breath before withdrawing his fingers from the soft feathers.              

“I’m sorry,” Dean said hurriedly before shaking his head and repeating the sentence in Enochian.

Samandriel closed his eyes and took a deep shuddering breath as he wrapped his arms around himself, the book tumbling off his lap and onto the floor.              

On the opposite couch, Castiel had stopped his own reading and was staring at Samandriel worriedly. He sat upright and began heading towards his son, only to freeze when Samandriel slowly pressed into Dean’s side, hiding his face in the alpha’s shirt.              

Stunned, Dean merely stared at the little omega before he heard the quiet sniffles and he instinctively wrapped his arms around Samandriel and stroked his back soothingly. He swallowed thickly when Samandriel’s arms slid outwards and curled around him and he rumbled protectively before he could stop himself.              

Samandriel tensed but Dean held him closer and continued rubbing his back and eventually, Samandriel relaxed and his sniffles quietened.              

Castiel stared at the pair, his mouth hanging open slightly and Dean offered him a weak smile before the omega retreated back to the couch and continued to watch them curiously.

Testing the limits, one of Dean’s hands wandered into a wing and began massaging it. Samandriel’s breath hitched and for a moment, Dean thought he would pull away, but the angel surprised him by opening his wings a tad wider and allowing Dean more access.

 ** _“You okay?”_** asked Dean quietly and the angel nodded against his shirt.

 ** _“You know you’re safe, right?”_** he whispered. **_“Dad’s right there and I’ll never hurt you.”_**               

To his delight, Samandriel wriggled closer and fisted a hand in his shirt. Dean curled around him a little bit more and kneaded the powerful muscles of his wings between his fingers. He massaged out all the aches and pains of one wing before moving onto the other and he manipulated each joint gently, watching the wing grow loose and more relaxed with every touch.              

He noticed a blue glow near his cheek and turned to find Samandriel’s halo shining like a sapphire and he wondered what the colour meant only to get his answer when he heard Samandriel’s quiet sobs and felt a cool dampness on his shirt.              

On the other couch, Castiel’s wings twitched erratically and he was clearly torn between running to his son or letting Dean continue.              

Dean nuzzled Samandriel’s hair, face breaking the flawless ring of blue light, and Samandriel whimpered and clutched him tighter.              

**_“Do you want to talk about it?”_ **

Samandriel sobbed a little louder and Dean’s heart cracked, so he pulled the angel onto his lap and held him tighter, tugging him into his chest protectively.              

 ** _“They used to pet my wings,”_** Samandriel cried, tears streaming down his face and body trembling. **_“They told me to take off my shirt so they could touch.”_**

Castiel had stiffened angrily, fists clenched and jaw set as his halo burned a murderous black. Dean felt his stomach roll and he knew he wasn’t going to like this story.              

 ** _“They made me watch,”_** Samandriel continued, words broken by his own hitching breath. **_“Sometimes, they made me stand in the corner whilst they hurt Dad. Sometimes they did other things to him and they liked making me watch then, too.”_**               

Dean growled furiously and Samandriel reared backwards, halo flickering between white and blue, but Dean tugged him to his chest again and stroked his back and rubbed his wings and nuzzled his hair until Samandriel slumped against him and sobbed harder.              

 ** _“They liked to look at me when I wasn’t wearing clothes,”_** Samandriel continued. **_“But Dad wouldn’t let them touch me when I was like that. He hit them and bared his teeth at them and made them stay away. So, they hurt him instead and made him do things he didn’t want to do.”_**

Dean bit back a soft whine at the young omega’s despairing scent. The usual hints of rainforest smelled like rot and decay and the pear had soured; the cinnamon non-existent. Everything about Samandriel screamed anguish and Dean wanted to help, wanted to do something to make all his pain fade away.              

 ** _“I could hear their thoughts and all the horrible things they liked to call me. Could hear what they wanted to do to me,”_** whimpered Samandriel. **_“They used to pet my wings and I could hear how they wanted to use my mouth. I could hear where they wanted to put their…”_** He trailed off, another wrecked sob bursting from his throat and Dean snarled before he could stop himself.              

Samandriel didn’t even startle that time; merely snuggled further into Dean’s chest and buried his nose into his neck to scent him.              

 ** _“They liked to play with my visol giiarp,”_** Samandriel whispered and Dean frowned in confusion, the last couple of words lost on him.              

Samandriel seemed to recognise his lack of reaction and he peered up at Dean with glassy eyes for a second before drawing a wing forward and separating the feathers at the top of the appendage on its inside. Between the feathers lay a small indentation with what appeared to be some sort of sealed opening and Dean squinted at the anomaly for a moment before his face paled once he realised what he was looking at.              

It was an oil gland. The people Samandriel was talking about had played with his oil glands. Whilst oil glands were stimulated regularly to produce the oil that kept an angel’s wings clean and healthy, they were also only meant to be touched by close friends and family. In some cases, lovers would treat them as erogenous zones and, depending on the time and type of touch offered to the glands, they could be utilised as a method of climax.              

 ** _“It hurt,”_** whispered Samandriel, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

Dean tucked the angel’s head into his neck and splayed a possessive hand over his back as he thrust the fingers of the other hand into a silky wing.               

“I’ll never let them touch you again,” seethed Dean, knowing Samandriel would be able to hear his thoughts anyway. “I’ll break their arms if they so much as look at either of you.” He raised his gaze to Castiel to find the older angel grating his teeth together as his wings flapped violently and his eyes glowed an intense blue. The bones of his knuckles looked ready to burst through his skin and his halo looked black enough to absorb light.              

Dean kissed Samandriel’s head without thinking and the young angel sobbed again and pressed his nose deep into Dean’s neck.              

 ** _“You smell good,”_** admitted Samandriel quietly. **_“Not like them.”_** He wrapped his arms around Dean tightly and attempted to mould himself into the alpha’s body. **_“Safe,”_** he breathed before inhaling Dean’s scent again.              

Dean’s instincts very suddenly decided that he was a father and that he needed to protect his son. He rubbed his chin over Samandriel’s head, scent-marking him and he made a point of smoothing his palm over delicate feathers, a low rumble in his chest.              

At first, Samandriel shrank away in confusion and possibly a little nervousness, but a tiny whine of disappointment escaped Dean’s throat and Samandriel cautiously snuggled into him once more, closing his eyes with a small smile as Dean marked him.              

Samandriel’s tears dried up and Dean’s alpha instincts rejoiced as the scent of cinnamon returned, the rot and decay fading away to leave woody rainforests and sweet pears. As Dean continued to card his fingers through Samandriel’s feathers and pet his hair, he glanced up at Castiel again and found the other angel’s intense gaze honed in on him, muscles coiled and wings poised either side of him as though he was ready to snatch Samandriel away and hide him in their room.              

Instincts protesting the thought, Dean held Samandriel closer and scented him pointedly.

Samandriel released an abrupt mewl – a cross between the purr of a cat and the coo of a dove – and Dean startled at the sound but watched as Castiel slowly relaxed into the couch again. Dean smiled and privately decided that he rather enjoyed cuddling with little angels and had no intentions of giving this one up to anybody.              

He missed Samandriel’s amused smirk, completely forgetting the young angel’s special power and Samandriel wasn’t inclined to remind him, so he merely made himself comfortable against Dean and evened out his breathing.              

Eventually, Samandriel dozed off and, once he was certain that the angel was feeling happy and secure, Dean quickly followed suit.              

Castiel cooked dinner that night, unwilling to disturb either of them.

 

*             *             *

 

It was Saturday and Dean had just finished cleaning the house (with a lot of help from Castiel and a strangely eager Samandriel). With his hands settled on his hips, he glanced around the room and wondered why he had ever stopped dusting; the house certainly looked less like a horror movie set after a good scrub.              

It was mid-afternoon and Dean smiled at both angels and led them into the kitchen for a well-deserved drink. Their halos were yellow with contentment and their wings appeared to be healing rapidly after dousing them in cream each day. Dean had ordered another tube and he had requested a repeat prescription oF the painkillers because the angels could actually move their bodies now without experiencing pain, unlike when they had first arrived. He hoped that soon, the angels wouldn’t require any pain relief for basic functioning.              

“Orange juice please,” grinned Samandriel in fluid English, looking proud of himself. Dean chuckled and set about rummaging in the fridge for the juice and Castiel ruffled Samandriel’s hair with a warm smile.              

“Thank you,” Samandriel chirped as Dean offered him a glass and the alpha huffed in amusement and glanced up at Castiel.              

Castiel waved a hand at him lightly and began making his own coffee – black with no sugar, which Dean complained about often and loudly. This time, he merely wrinkled his nose and grabbed a beer from the fridge.              

As he took a swig from the bottle, he watched Castiel fill his mug with water and he debated with himself over whether he should reveal his latest thoughts or not. He must have stared at Castiel for too long because the angel gently nudged him with a wing and he snapped out of his reverie to find the omega tilting his head at him in query.              

Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets. “So… I was thinking… You guys haven’t seen the outside of this place for, what? Over three weeks now? And… I was wondering if you wanted to go into town tomorrow?” He shrugged casually and glanced over at Castiel. “…Maybe enrol in a sign language class or something?”              

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise as Samandriel’s rounded hopefully.

“We free?” asked Samandriel stiltedly.              

Dean’s gaze softened and he held a hand out, which Samandriel gazed at warily for a moment before shuffling forwards and grabbing onto.              

“You’re always free,” said Dean softly. “I’m not keeping you prisoner. You can leave any time you want.” The corners of his mouth turned downwards and from the edge of his vision, he watched Castiel lower his gaze sadly. Samandriel seemed to understand, or maybe he heard Dean’s unsaid thoughts because his wings drooped and he bowed his head.              

“Humans don’t like us,” he whispered.

Dean crouched down and carded gentle fingers through white feathers. “It’s not that they don’t like you,” corrected Dean quietly. “It’s just… there are rules. You have to have papers that say you’ve done certain things and that you’ve been on Earth for seven years. When you have your papers, you and your dad can get out of here and go and do anything you want.” It was only a partial lie. Angels and demons did indeed have to be in human custody for seven years and obtain all the correct paperwork before they could be allowed to live independently. The difference with Castiel and Samandriel was that, whilst Samandriel had been cleared for ‘mentoring’, Castiel had been branded too hostile and was technically not supposed to be in the programme at all until he was cleared, so in reality, Castiel’s seven years hadn’t even started.              

Samandriel frowned and held up five fingers. “Already five years,” he said.

Dean grimaced. The angels had already spent five torturous years with Arthur Ketch as part of the programme, but there was a problem with that.              

“Your old… ‘mentor’ was arrested because he was abusing the mentoring programme and he was caught before you guys finished your seven years. It means that you don’t have any records with him and the ones he handed in to the government every six months were all fake. So… um… those five years didn’t count.”              

Samandriel’s eyes widened and he yanked his hand out of Dean’s grip, betrayed.

 **_“No! That’s not fair! We have five years! After everything he did to us, you’re going to tell us that it doesn’t count?”_ ** ****

Dean winced at the harsh Enochian and shook his head. **_“I’m sorry-”_**

 ** _“Screw you!”_** Samandriel snarled. **_“Screw your apologies! Tell them we already have five years!”_**               

Dean frowned at the omega’s flared wings. **_“I can’t. You don’t have any paperwork and you were never meant to do the things that Ketch made you do.”_**               

 ** _“You’re just like all those other alphas!”_** hissed Samandriel. **_“Just like the awful alphas that came to see me and Dad!”_**

Dean stiffened, bile rising in his throat at the implications and he watched tears gather in Samandriel’s eyes as the little omega whirled on his heel and began sprinting towards the door.

Suddenly, Castiel slammed a heavy wing against the kitchen counter and he whistled sharply, making Samandriel freeze in the doorway and slowly turn to his father with a petulant expression. Castiel narrowed his eyes and gestured the boy over with one finger and Samandriel slunk over, wings low. Castiel grabbed his hand and Samandriel flinched at what appeared to be a mental reprimand and when Castiel had finished his silent spiel, Samandriel pouted.

**_“But he is! They never wanted to help us. They just wanted to hurt us and now he’s doing it! He’s trapping us here!”_ **

Castiel’s scowl deepened and Samandriel fell silent again, lip wobbling a little as his father scolded him. Finally, Castiel released him and Samandriel turned around and shuffled his feet as he refused to meet Dean’s gaze.              

 ** _“I’m sorry,”_** he grumbled. **_“You’re not like those alphas. You don’t treat us like they do.”_** And then under his breath in clear English, he mumbled, “But you still asshole.”              

Castiel’s lips parted and then he scowled down at Samandriel and smacked his head lightly with a wing. Samandriel pulled a face where his father couldn’t see it and Dean didn’t know where he’d learned that sort of language (it had been, unbeknownst to him, the internet’s fault) and he had no idea when Samandriel had started accurately mirroring the faces he had pulled after one of his own childhood lectures, but the whole scene was hilarious and Dean barked out a laugh before he could hold it in.              

Castiel’s sharp gaze whipped onto Dean and Dean ducked his head and bit his lip, trying to hold in excess laughter. Samandriel scowled at him in a way that said he would suffocate Dean whilst he slept and Castiel’s scowl deepened in disapproval.              

“I’m sorry,” managed Dean. “You just… he looks so like ten-year-old me after Dad called me out on something.” He snickered again and Samandriel’s feathers actually began to puff out in agitation. Castiel however, had a softer gaze and he tilted his head at Dean curiously, as though he wanted to ask a question but didn’t think he should.              

Dean opened his mouth to explain but a quiet _baaa_ made him snap it shut again in bewilderment. The sound repeated itself a moment later and the three stared at one another before Dean warily opened the back door and popped his head around it.              

A curly-coated, brown lamb blinked up at him.

“What the-” began Dean as Samandriel and Castiel followed him outside. He pulled a face and approached the little creature and it bleated at him again and hobbled forwards and it was then that Dean noticed it was missing a foreleg.              

He stooped down to pick the creature up and it wriggled in his hold a little before settling down and trying to suck at his chin. Trapping the three-legged lamb to his chest, Dean rounded the side of the house and peered down to the road but scowled at its emptiness. The corners of his mouth turned downwards and he cursed under his breath.              

There was a light tap on his shoulder and he turned to find Castiel tilting his head at him questioningly as Samandriel stared up at the young lamb with wide, enraptured eyes.              

“People used to do this sort of thing back when this place was up and running,” sighed Dean. “They had an animal they didn’t want or had nowhere to keep and they would drive up here, usually in the middle of the night, and throw the thing out of the back of a van or a truck and then they’d drive off so we couldn’t return it.” He gestured to the lamb’s missing leg. “Usually, they were born with something wrong with them or their behaviour wasn’t right or the colour stopped them from being shown. People didn’t have the heart to kill them so they just dumped them here and assumed we would be too soft to get rid of them.”              

Dean shook his head and glanced down at the lamb, scratching between its ears. “And most of the time we were. Mom rescued tons of animals and Dad complained about them all being money pits but he never really stopped her from doing it. Occasionally, we would get one that we couldn’t keep, but Mom spent a lot of time working and training all the animals.” Dean smiled; mind lost in memories of a time long since passed. “This place was awesome in its heyday.”              

Samandriel flapped his wings, clearly wanting to fly but restricted by the still-healing radius of his wing. He stretched out his hand, desperate to touch but afraid to spook the tiny creature. Dean reckoned that it couldn’t be more than two days old.              

Dean placed the lamb on the floor and its long tail wiggled happily and it bounced around for a couple of minutes before venturing over to Samandriel. He let it sniff him and then pushed his fingers through its thick, curly coat and it took to sucking his fingers greedily.              

“I’m not sure what to do with it,” admitted Dean, mostly to himself. “I’ve not got any milk, so I can’t feed it. I could take it to the ASPCA.”

The lamb bleated again, as though it could tell it was being discussed, and it blinked up at Dean with pleading black eyes and wiggled its ears. Then it trotted over to Samandriel and began nibbling the bottom of his jeans.              

Samandriel gazed up at Dean, lip wobbling slightly in a perfect imitation of a young Sam when he wanted something that he knew the rest of the family wouldn’t. The problem was, the expression never worked on their father and only occasionally on their mother, but it was a hundred percent successful on Dean every time.              

“Keeping an animal is a lot of work,” Dean said sternly, even though he already knew he was going to lose the argument. He watched Castiel place a hand on Samandriel’s shoulder in order to translate.              

“She’s not a toy you can get bored of in a couple of weeks or even a couple of years. You have to look after her for all of her life,” continued Dean and Samandriel nodded determinedly.              

Dean frowned. “If you want her, you’ve got to take care of her. No pushing the responsibility off to me or your dad.”

Samandriel shook his head rapidly and tugged the lamb closer. She butted his wing playfully.              

“You’ll have to feed her and water her and take her into the stables at night so the foxes don’t get her. You’ll have to clean her bed and shear her coat in the summer so she doesn’t get too hot. You’ll have to check she doesn’t have seeds or food in her coat so the birds don’t peck at her. You’ll have to keep her feet clean and check her for parasites,” said Dean, arms crossed and Samandriel stared back at him defiantly, jaw set.              

Finally, Dean sighed. “I’ll nip over to Mr. Kinley’s and see if he can be persuaded to give us some milk powder until tomorrow.”              

Samandriel beamed at him, wings fluttering as his halo shone golden and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Still think I’m an asshole?”              

Samandriel’s grin widened and Dean shook his head and marched towards the house to find his car keys. He stumbled when something latched onto his middle and he turned to find Samandriel holding onto him, face buried into his shirt and wings sliding around him.              

“Sorry,” he whispered, sincerely this time.

A small smile wormed its way over Dean’s face and he ruffled the boy’s hair. “C’mon. Let me go so we can feed your new pet. What are you going to name her?”              

Samandriel paused thoughtfully for a moment before looking up at Dean. “Persephone.”

Dean raised an eyebrow but decided not to ask. He entered the kitchen and snagged his keys and when he made his way outside again, he found Samandriel rolling around the floor with Persephone and Castiel watching him with an amused smile. When the older angel spotted Dean, he flicked his gaze to the alpha and if Dean had to describe the expression, he would have to say it was… fond.

He nodded at the angel and slid into the Impala, in search of milk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Talk of Samandriel's past and underage touching
> 
>  
> 
> Oh my goodness, guys! The wonderful MAPMonstersArePerceptions is writing omakes for this universe so you can find them at the links at the end where it says 'works inspired by this one'! I'm so honoured! Go read them - they're from Cas and Samandriel's POV!


	8. Wet Paint

_The hairs on the back of Castiel’s neck stood on end as he navigated his way through the team-building challenge. He could feel someone’s eyes on him, assessing his every move. That was, of course, the whole point of this exercise – to be pitted against another team and both groups judged for their efficiency and cleverness in catching their targets. The issue was that Castiel couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched for entirely different reasons._

_They had been paired with Ramiel’s team; Zachariah obviously knew about his and Inias’ rivalry and he was hoping to use it to make the exercise more intense and difficult for both teams. One group acted as officers and the other played the part of criminals. Each group was tasked with trying to down members of the opposite team with their allocated weapons: paintball guns. The criminals were given a load to carry, like a weighty bag or a briefcase and they weren’t given radios or any other means of communication with the rest of their team. The officers were expected to work together to catch the criminals and as such, were given radios, handcuffs and torches. Once one group had been ‘killed’ or captured, the game duration was noted and then the teams switched roles._

_The team-building exercise was held in a dark, indoor course riddled with high walls and ramps, making it look very similar to the laser-tag course Castiel had frequented with his parents as a child._

_A twinge of pain made itself known in Castiel’s heart at the thought of his parents, but he shook his head and focused on the game. In front of him, Inias was red-faced with anger; he’d had the opportunity to hit Ramiel square in the back with a paintball, but he had forgotten to reload and Ramiel had heard the click of his trigger. He had whirled on Inias, smirking in his cheerfully orange criminal onesie and if it hadn’t been for Castiel yanking his leader behind a wall, Inias’ rich blue onesie would have been decorated with a vibrant yellow paint splatter._

_Inias refused to speak to Castiel as they stalked through the course, attempting to stick to the zones they had discussed with the rest of the team at the beginning of the challenge. Castiel didn’t know what he had done to deserve being paired with Inias once again, but he couldn’t exactly complain about it and if he did, he knew Zachariah was just waiting for the chance to reprimand him. Everyone was waiting for Castiel to fail._

_Inias stuck out a hand and Castiel froze behind him, readying his gun. His leader made a few complicated gestures and Castiel nodded and began circling the area Inias obviously suspected was holding a criminal. They leaped into the small space from opposite sides and a ruby-winged beta, Duma, gasped and aimed her weapon at Inias. Before she could pull the trigger though, Castiel shot her in the back and she sent him a filthy glare before traipsing towards the exit._

_Inias scowled and once again refused to speak to Castiel as he slunk out of the space._

_A few minutes later, Inias peeked around a wall and withdrew his head after a moment. He made the same complicated hand gesture as earlier and Castiel nodded and crept to the opposite end of the wall, missing Inias’ smug smirk._

_This time, when Castiel leaped out to face the criminal, Inias didn’t follow and Castiel found himself blasted in the chest with a powerful yellow ball. His wings sagged in dismay and he glanced up to find Bartholomew chuckling at him, Inias nowhere in sight._

_“You’re out, sweet-slick,” purred Bartholomew and Castiel scrunched his nose up before heading towards the exit._

_He shuffled out of the room and frowned at the sight of Zachariah’s light smirk, his eyes focused on the monitors displaying different sections of the course. Castiel knew he had been set up but he was aware that complaining about it would get him nowhere, so he sat in an empty bench away from the other angels who had been tagged with paintballs. They tittered quietly to themselves as he sat alone._

_Suddenly, there was the scent of strawberries and buttercream and dewdrop-laden grass and Castiel looked up to find a beautiful blue-grey-winged omega staring down at him, her hands clasped behind her back and her halo a neutral yellow._

_“Castiel?” she asked, voice soft yet somehow brimming with authority._

_Castiel nodded and from the corner of his eye, he caught Zachariah’s smile fall despite him not glancing in their direction. Beside him, the other officers were cocking their heads at the pretty omega, whispering lewd comments to one another and letting their gazes roam over her curves._

_“Hannah,” she introduced, extending a hand and Castiel rose to his feet and shook it warily._

_“We’ve been watching you for some time, Castiel,” she said. “My boss sees potential in you and after reading your file, I agree with her.” She withdrew her hand and clasped it behind her back again. “We’d like to offer you a… promotion of sorts. Interested?”_

_He straightened, wings hitching a tad higher in testament to his cautiousness. “What sort of promotion?”_

_She smiled and led him towards the building’s exit. “Walk with me,” she hummed._

*             *             *

 

“Do you have the report with the details about the bedroom?” asked Sam, stacking notes and reorganising the papers strewn in front of him.

Opposite him, Dean flicked through the hefty file and found the report. He handed it to Sam and the younger alpha scanned through the pages before finding the section he needed. He scribbled out some more notes as Dean re-read some of the things that they knew Castiel and Samandriel had been subjected to. He shuddered and placed the file on the table.

“How are they?” Sam asked, gaze laser-focused on his notes.

Dean retrieved the paperwork he was supposed to be filling out on the latest break-in committed by seemingly the same group of crimson-wearing people who had smashed through the hostel’s window. Dean’s boss had taken to calling them ‘Red Devils’ and the name had stuck.

“They’re… okay, I guess. Samandriel’s more confident than he was. Castiel… smiles a little more, I suppose. They’ve not attacked me or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Sam spared him a glance before returning to his notes. “Good,” he murmured absently and that was the end of that conversation.

The radio that had otherwise been lying silent on the corner of the desk, crackled to life suddenly.

 _“Disturbance on West Ninth. Omega demon spotted bloodied and in respiratory distress outside the bank. Ambulance dispatched. Suspected Red Devil attack,”_ came the gruff voice of one of the older secretaries.

 _“Winchester, Walker. Get on it,”_ commanded Victor less than a minute later.

Dean’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he stood with a sigh. “You gonna be alright here?” he asked Sam, who grunted something that may have been an affirmative or maybe a request for coffee. Dean shrugged and left the private room, knocking on Gordon’s desk as he made his way to the exit.

The other alpha glared at Dean and shuffled after him, Starbucks cup in hand.

They slid into a squad car and flipped the siren on as they left the station, watching the sea of cars part for them as they raced down to Ninth street. The drive wasn’t too long but when they arrived, there was a swarm of people crowding around the frantic paramedics, some taking pictures, others gasping in horror and a few looking nauseous.

Dean and Gordon pushed through the crowd towards the paramedics huddled over a demon’s bloodied body, and the two alphas spread their arms wide, badges in hand as they ordered the public to back up and let the doctors do their jobs. Leaving Gordon to control the crowd, Dean turned his attention to the two crouching paramedics.

He glanced over the demon’s tattered caramel wings and her broken horns and allowed his gaze to linger on the bruises and gashes decorating her skin in a similar manner to how Castiel had probably looked before scars had replaced his wounds. She was naked save for her brassiere and underwear and situated in the centre of her stomach was a narrow, open wound that resembled a knife entrance point. Her chest was still and her eyes were closed; one blackened and swollen and Dean had a sinking feeling that the lady would end up in a freezer by the end of the day.

He watched the doctors clamp their hands tighter over the knife wound as they alternated between chest compressions and administering oxygen, and when there was no response, a third paramedic rushed over with a mobile defibrillator.

A few minutes passed with not so much as a twitch from the demon and the paramedics, exhausted and drenched with sweat, withdrew from her body defeatedly. One checked his watch and the others slid over to the ambulance to fetch the stretcher.

Dean tipped his head a little in respect, keeping his scent neutral unlike his partner, who was beginning to grow irritated with the crowd.

“Sorry, Doc,” Dean offered quietly as he approached the remaining medic; an older man with grey hair and kind eyes framed by a weary face. “It was a valiant effort.”

The paramedic shook his head with a sigh. “It’s a shame but sometimes, there’s nothing we can do.” He tore his gaze away from the body and regarded Dean and the badge caught between his fingers. “You probably have questions. Unfortunately, I know about as much as you. Your best bet is to ask that young girl over there. Apparently, she saw what happened.” He directed a slightly crooked finger towards a blonde-haired woman, no more than twenty, who was looking rather shaken as her eyes darted around the scene from behind cherry-red spectacles.

Dean smiled his thanks at the doctor and made his way over to the woman, wrinkling his nose a little at Gordon’s off-putting wave of angry alpha pheromones.

“Is she dead?” asked the woman, an omega Dean noted now he was so close. Her voice was slightly hysterical. “Are they going to keep trying? Who is she? Did she bleed out? Why aren’t they trying again?”

Dean’s scent automatically radiated comfort and soothing and he watched her take a deep breath and close her eyes, a quiet sob escaping her throat.

“She’s gone,” Dean murmured apologetically. “I’m guessing you didn’t know her?”

The woman shook her head, tears leaking down her pale face.

Dean tilted his head in a way he was certain he was slowly picking up from Castiel. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

“Sophie,” she whimpered, unconsciously shuffling a little closer to him in search of reassurance.

“Sophie, the doctor told me you saw what happened,” Dean murmured, ramping up his scent a little to ground her. “Think you can explain it all to me?”

Sophie nodded miserably. “This dented white van came from nowhere. They hurtled around the corner at some ridiculous speed and made a bunch of other cars stop and blast their horns. Then, the back doors flung open and that poor demon was thrown out of it. She bounced off the curb and when she rolled over, she looked all bloody and beaten up. The van disappeared but I caught a glimpse of the driver. She was wearing all red but her face was covered.”

Dean frowned. “Did you get a pic of the license plate?”

She shook her head sadly and Dean sagged a little, but then an elderly man spoke up behind him.

“I did!”

Dean swivelled and watched a man in his seventies hobble up to them, phone in hand. “I didn’t see that poor girl getting thrown onto the sidewalk, but I was on the street that the van flew out of beforehand. I thought it was some drunk driver or maybe a couple of kids trying to show off to their friends, so I snapped a picture of the license plate and I was going to report a dangerous driver.”

He handed the phone over and Dean made a note of the sequence of letters and numbers.

“Well done, man,” he grinned at the guy before turning to the shaken woman and offering her a small smile. “And thank you. Don’t stay here too long, okay?” He glanced at the lifeless body sprawled over the floor and offered Sophie one more empathetic smile.

“C’mon, love. How about I get you one of those coffees that you young’uns are so obsessed with. What are they called again? Starducks?” asked the man with a confused frown as he hobbled over to Sophie.

She laughed weakly. “Starbucks,” she corrected before nodding and he beamed at her and took her arm like a true Mr. Darcy.

“That’s the one. Starbucks. How about we go to one of them and I’ll get you one of those fancy cakes? Will that cheer you up?”

Her chuckle was a bit warmer this time and Dean grinned at the older man’s scent of lemon pie, newspapers and resin. He was clearly an alpha, but his scent was comforting and protective and Sophie leaned into him gratefully.

Dean watched them go with a lop-sided grin before the expression faded and he returned his focus to the dead demon. She had no identification and there was no way to tell if she even came from Kansas. Dean could check the license plate and see who it was registered to, but he had a feeling that it wouldn’t lead them to the criminals. The best they could do was share a report on the local news, asking for anyone who knew of any missing demons, and hope they could ID the victim.

Dean sighed as the paramedics loaded the mangled body into the ambulance.

The Red Devils needed to be stopped.

 

*             *             *

 

Dean arrived home later than usual. He had been determined to find something that would help him identify who these so-called ‘Red Devils’ were and he had scoured various victim files since returning to the station. Sam had gone home long before he had and it was only when his stomach rumbled did Dean realise that his shift had ended three hours ago. With a frustrated grumble, Dean tidied up and drove home, mind wandering back to the poor demon. He wondered if she had any family or if anyone even missed her.

When he drove up the dirt track that led to his house, he noticed Hera and Persephone napping in their respective stables after a tiring day of grazing. He smiled lightly to himself and parked up, spirits brightening a little at the thought of the angels who had taken care of them all day.

Dean entered the house with an apology for his tardiness on the tip of his tongue, but paused when the peculiar smell of wet paint reached his nostrils.

He scented the air curiously and glanced around as he slowly shut the door.

This was not the same room that he had left that morning.

Eyes wide and stunned, he approached one warm, beige wall and blinked when the wet paint glistened beneath the light. The walls were no longer flaking or riddled with smoke stains and the room didn’t look quite as dull and dismal as it had done that very same morning. Even the skirting boards had been repainted in a bright white.

Wondering how much of the house had changed, Dean wandered into the kitchen and reeled backwards at the sunny yellow walls. The kitchen certainly looked a lot livelier.

“Don’t touch.”

Dean whirled around, startling at the voice and he was met with the sight of Samandriel, covered head-to-toe in various shades of paint and wielding a brush that Dean vaguely recalled seeing in one of the storage sheds a couple of decades ago.

Dean held his hands up and Samandriel nodded, satisfied before marching off to who-knows-where.

Bemused, Dean trailed after him and into one of the bedrooms and his eyebrows rocketed skywards at the sheets draped over the bed and wardrobe and nightstand. All the furniture was protected from any stray paint drips and the floor was covered in the same type of polythene that was wrapped around the hay bales in the barn.

Castiel was perched on top of a ladder, spattered in paint in the same way as Samandriel was, whilst he streaked white paint over the yellowed ceiling. Upon Dean’s entrance, he peered down at the alpha and his wings tucked behind his back almost nervously. He climbed down the ladder gracefully and stood tall, head slightly bowed but gaze honed in on Dean’s features. To the left of the room, Samandriel continued painting.

“Wow, this is…” Dean began, looking around the half-painted room and trying to find the correct words. From the corner of his eye, he caught Samandriel pause and look to him anxiously.

“Amazing,” Dean half-laughed, half-choked because the last time the walls looked so bright, his mother was alive.

Samandriel’s wings fluttered and he grinned before returning to his task. Castiel’s wings also gave a little flutter and he relaxed slightly, halo almost as yellow as the walls.

“Where did you even get the paint?”

Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out a notepad and pen.

 

_One of the sheds. Persephone crawled into it and we went to fetch her. I noticed the paint and thought we could use it._

Dean’s smile wavered a little because _of course_ his mom had thought to buy extra paint cans in case they ever needed it. She was practical like that.

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” said Dean softly, a weak smile touching his lips.

Castiel scratched out a new note.

 

_We can be useful to you._

This time, Dean’s smile fell completely and he stared at the note in dismay before shaking his head. “I don’t want you to be ‘useful’ to me. I just want you to heal.” He gestured to the gauze pads taped to Castiel’s wings. “I want you to feel safe here.”

Brow furrowed, Castiel pursed his lips and scribbled out another note.

 

_You barely know us. Why are you so intent on helping us? Surely, you want something in return for your kindness?_

Dean shook his head again. “I just… kinda like your company. You don’t have to give me anything in return for being a decent person.”

Castiel stared at him, perplexed, as though he was a puzzle to be solved. Dean shifted from one foot to the other awkwardly.

“But, y’know… I uh… I really appreciate all this.” He gestured around the room vaguely. “It looks really good. So, uh, thanks.”

Castiel continued to stare at him with his intense blue eyes and Dean cleared his throat and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll get dinner started.” He scuttled out of the room and made sure to keep his clothes and hands off the walls.

 

*             *             *

 

The next couple of evenings when Dean returned home from work, more rooms were painted and double-coated and Dean walked into his own bedroom on the third day, only to drop his car keys on the floor in shock.

On the wall opposite his bed, was a huge, pencilled outline of Baby.

The detail was incredibly accurate and despite the lack of colour, Dean could imagine the shine on her glossy black exterior and the sunlight glinting over her chrome curves as though the sketch had been painted. The headlights and grill were massive compared to the rest of her body, as though looking through a fisheye lens and her hard lines were perfectly straight and life-like; a testament to how much effort had been put into the drawing.

Attached to the outline of the rear-view mirror was a vibrant green post-it note and Dean plucked it off the drawing curiously.

 

_If you don’t like it, we can paint over it._

Dean huffed out a laugh of disbelief and then, with a grin crawling over his face, he turned the paper over and wrote out a reply. Once he had finished, he took a step back and admired the sketch again before wandering into the lounge, where Castiel and Samandriel were pretending not to have noticed his entrance.

Grin widening, he strolled up to Samandriel and promptly stuck the note to his forehead. Then he sauntered into the kitchen, whistling a _Guns ‘n’ Roses_ guitar riff.

A few minutes later, there was shuffling behind him and he paused his hip-swinging and burrito-making to glance over at the intruders airily. Samandriel beamed at him, halo shining golden and Dean found his own eyes crinkling in amusement. Behind the young angel, Castiel wore a small smile, more subdued than his son’s but happy nonetheless.

 ** _“Who drew it?”_** Dean asked and Castiel nodded down to his son.

Dean huffed out an impressed laugh and cast his gaze to the younger angel, who was practically vibrating with excitement.

 ** _“You’re the most awesome angel I know,”_** smirked Dean and the boy’s cheeks reddened even as his wings fluttered in delight. He held up the sticky note.

“No lie?” he asked hopefully.

Dean placed a hand over his heart. “No lie,” he confirmed with a wink.

 ** _“You’ll really take us shopping on Saturday? For black paint?”_** Samandriel asked.

Dean nodded. **_“I was going to take you last week, but Persephone got in the way, remember?”_** He chuckled when Samandriel ducked his head a little. **_“So, we can get some more paint and you can buy some new clothes and maybe a treat or something for you both. Sound good?”_**

Samandriel’s eyes sparkled with hope. **_“…Toy?”_**

 ** _“Maybe,”_**  smirked Dean. **_“And something for your dad.”_**

Samandriel suddenly launched himself across the room and latched onto Dean’s middle. He buried his face into Dean’s shirt and mumbled, “Thank you, alpha.”

Dean frowned and crouched down until he was eye-level with the little omega.

 ** _“None of that,”_** he whispered. **_“I’m ‘Dean’, not ‘alpha’, okay?”_**

Surprised but accepting, Samandriel nodded and wrapped his wings around Dean. “Thank you, Dean,” he corrected and the alpha held him close, scenting that familiar smell he was beginning to associate with happiness. He massaged the bases of Samandriel’s wings gently and despite the bandage constricting one of the appendages, the wings fluttered happily beneath Dean’s fingertips.

When they drew apart, Samandriel glanced at the bowl laid out over the kitchen counter. “I can help?” he asked eagerly.

“Can I help?” Dean corrected before contemplating the question and finally nodding. “Pepper, onion, tomatoes,” he listed slowly and Samandriel’s nose scrunched up in concentration before he smiled and raced to the fridge and began poking around the different fruits and vegetables.

Dean watched him in amusement and began to pour out some rice into a Pyrex bowl. He paused when he felt someone staring at him and he turned to find Castiel gazing at him warmly, smile a little wider than earlier. Confused, but pleased with the expression, Dean offered him a cheeky grin and held up a spoon.

“Ever made salsa?”

Castiel shook his head, yellow halo flecked with golds and… oranges. It looked rather like a tiny sunset and Dean very much liked it even though he wasn’t sure what orange meant.

“C’mon. I’ll teach you,” said Dean, waving him over as Samandriel deposited three items on the chopping board; a pepper, an onion and a turnip. Dean returned the turnip and said, “Three red tomatoes.”

Samandriel’s eyes widened in understanding and he gravitated towards the fridge once more.

The next couple of hours were spent teaching the angels how to cook spicy burritos with Dean’s special recipe and enjoying said burritos with whatever Disney animation Samandriel liked the look of. It was a relaxing and enjoyable evening and Dean couldn’t stop smiling because Samandriel had decided to sit next to him for dinner for the first time ever, and Castiel didn’t seem the least bit concerned.

At eight o’clock, there was a sharp rap on the door.

The angels startled and Samandriel quickly returned to his father’s side. Scowling, Dean approached the window and didn’t recognise the red Prius parked outside.

Scent turning subtly protective, Dean opened the door a crack and blocked the view of the lounge with his own body. He frowned at the blonde-haired beta smiling back at him, clipboard clutched between perfectly manicured fingernails and skin reeking of expensive perfume.

“Mr. Winchester, my name is Ms. Bela Talbot and I’m a representative of Helen’s Hostel for Refugees. May I come in?” she asked, her voice sweet like honey but something in her gaze rubbing Dean the wrong way.

“Uh… sure,” he said warily, glancing at the silver halos of the angels and subtly placing himself between them and Bela as she stepped inside the house.

She looked tough in her leather jacket and black trousers and she flicked her gaze to the angels once before focusing on Dean.

“We usually check in on our mentors two weeks after they take our residents home, however given the… circumstances,” she glanced briefly at Castiel, “we decided to give them more time to settle in.”

Dean held back a scowl. Basically, that translated to they thought that Castiel was a raging psycho and they didn’t want to get caught up in any violent episodes.

“Well, we’re fine,” Dean said.

“Indeed,” hummed Bela and the tone made Dean uncomfortable. “The bandage around the child’s wing… how long has that been there?”

Dean frowned. “Since before they arrived. Another detective accidentally stood on it at the hostel and I bandaged it there. When I brought them here, I got a doctor to see to it. I’ve been replacing the bandages whenever they need it.”

Bela nodded slowly. “And the older one? The gauze on his wings?”

“Accident with my horse. Got dragged through the field. Had the doctor see to him too.” Dean wasn’t sure he liked her polite smile and a glance back at the angels told him that they felt the same way. Castiel tucked Samandriel into his side, drawing a wing around him to shield him from Bela’s view and he subconsciously pulled the sleeves of his sweater down to his knuckles, further covering his scarred skin.

Bela tilted her chin. “Does he always hide the child from you like that?”

Dean scowled, not liking the implications. “I don’t think it’s me he’s hiding Samandriel from. And he can hear you, by the way.”

She offered him a forced smile before suddenly striding across the room until she was a mere few feet away from the angels. Immediately, Castiel puffed his feathers out in warning, glaring up at her distrustfully. She peered at his wings until he slammed one against the back of the couch threateningly.

“His wings are in bad shape. How long has he had these scars and burns?”

Dean stiffened, seeing the accusation for what it was. He edged closer, oddly protective of the angels and determined to make her to back off.

“They were like that when he arrived, courtesy of his previous ‘mentor’. I’ve been treating them with cream and I know there are a lot of bald patches, but I’m doing all I can. I’ve been giving them painkillers and hopefully we’ll be able to reduce the dose in a couple of weeks. Is that sufficient, ma’am?” he drawled, eyes narrowed.

Castiel glanced between the two humans and Dean watched him frown at the beta as though he had just realised what she had been insinuating.

She offered him a plastic smile. “You understand, Mr. Winchester, that I do not work in the hostel itself and as such, I have never met most of the residents that I check on?”

Dean remained silent, although his frown softened a little.

She glanced around the walls, twirling her pen around her fingers. “You’re redecorating? The paint smells fresh.”

Dean allowed a small smile to cross his expression and he nodded towards the angels. “They did it. All by themselves.”

Bela turned to him sharply. “And do you pay them for their hard labour or is it something you expect of them whilst they live in your house? You mentioned they tend to your horse as well? Do you give them regular work?”

Dean straightened in irritation at the implications. “I’ve told them multiple times that I don’t expect anything. Anything they do, they choose to do it, alright? And no, I don’t pay them, because I’m happy to provide for them.”

“Oh?” hummed Bela. “And what have you provided them with so far? Apart from food and beds, which you’re legally obliged to give since you signed their papers.”

Dean’s mouth drew into a thin line. “Clothes, books, sketch pads, pencils, toys…” He knew it wasn’t that much and Bela confirmed it by humming sceptically.

“I assume most of that is for the boy. What about the older angel?”

Dean shifted his weight awkwardly. “Castiel,” he grumbled. “His name is Castiel and the kid is Samandriel. If you’re going to talk about them like they’re not here, at least use their names.

“My question still stands,” said Bela. “What exactly have you provided for Castiel after all this labour you say he chooses to offer?”

Dean licked his lips, knowing he didn’t have a good answer and Bela scribbled something down on her clipboard.

“I was informed that you promised to keep Castiel isolated from others due to his aggressive nature. Apart from the doctor, have you done so?”

Castiel scowled and Dean winced at the memory of Sam and the four angels popping over for a visit.

“Ah… not exactly. My brother came over a little while ago… with his own residents.”

Bela narrowed her gaze and scribbled something else. “And did any altercations occur?”

Dean was about to say ‘no’, but then he remembered Gabriel hitting the floor. His expression must have given him away because Bela pursed her lips.

“Has Castiel ever assaulted you, Mr. Winchester?”

Dean didn’t need to answer because Castiel’s dropped gaze revealed the answer and Bela wrote out a long note on her clipboard.

Finally, she dropped her clipboard to her side and pinned him with a stern gaze. “Mr. Winchester, many residents find it difficult to settle into their new homes at first. However, you must understand that your situation is different. Castiel was never cleared for the programme and as such, he is unpredictable and unfit for life with humans. However you choose to reprimand him for violent behaviour,” here, she glanced at Castiel’s burns in distaste, “it doesn’t change the fact that he will likely never be integrated into society. Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to sign him into a rehabilitation centre or a psychiatric hospital, which would be more… beneficial to his condition?”

Dean’s jaw clenched, scent souring into something angry and indignant. Bela blinked at him placidly before scrawling something across her clipboard.

“What did you just write?” he growled, unable to help himself. How dare this beta come into _his_ home, stress out _his_ angels, question _his_ morals, accuse _him_ of abuse and then speak about Castiel as though he was some mentally-deficient lunatic with a passion for homicide? He wanted this beta out of his territory, _now_.

Bela lowered her clipboard again and fixed him with an unimpressed gaze. “Nothing that concerns you, Mr. Winchester.”

“Nothing that concerns me, huh?” growled Dean, temper rising. “You’ve basically accused me of burning Castiel’s wings and beating him to the point that he hides his kid from me and you’re telling me you haven’t written anything that would be of concern to me?”

“Please, remain calm,” said Bela, looking entirely bored with his display. “I’m only doing my job.”

“By telling me to throw Castiel into a mental hospital because you think he’s some deranged psychopath?” hissed Dean, taking a step forward.

Bela took one backward and the distraction gave Castiel enough time to lean forwards and rip the clipboard from her grasp. He scanned through her notes, frown deepening with each passing second and even Dean jumped when the angel flared his wings furiously and rose to his feet, glaring at the surprised beta. He pointedly tore her notes in half, then quarters and let the remains flutter to the ground.

Next, he grabbed Samandriel’s hand and led them both towards Dean. They stood beside him and Dean’s throat dried when the older omega curved a protective wing around him, chin tilted defiantly as he glared at Bela.

Putting on a show for Bela, Dean snaked a hand around Castiel’s waist and when the omega tensed, he squeezed him lightly in a way that he hoped was reassuring. Castiel quickly relaxed and Dean felt a genuine smile tug at his lips before he put on a mask of annoyance.

“Cas’ home is here,” Dean said lowly. “I said I’d look after him and Samandriel, and I am. Now if that’s everything, kindly get out of my house.”

Bela scowled. “Castiel doesn’t belong here. He needs help-”

“Y’know, everyone’s really great at telling him what he needs but have you ever thought to ask him how he feels?” snapped Dean and suddenly, there was a nose brushing against his neck, scenting him gently. Dean paused in bewilderment but then he tugged Castiel a little closer and bared his neck a bit more as the angel’s wing curled tighter around him.

Bela watched them with a frown. “He’s scarred and traumatised. He needs professional help. It is suspected that he and his son were sexually abused-”

Castiel stiffened, scent becoming bitter and sour all at once and Samandriel whined softly by his father’s side.

“Get out!” snarled Dean instantly, flinging an arm towards the door as he glared daggers at the unwelcome beta. “Get out of our house!”

She visibly recoiled at his tone and his overpowering scent of rage and she made a hasty retreat towards the door.

“Mr. Winchester, I hope you realise that I will have to report all of what has transpired here to my boss?” she said, hovering in the doorway and Dean whirled on her with fire in his eyes.

“If you’d have done your job properly the first time, Cas and Samandriel would never have stayed with a man who abused them in the first place! Instead of throwing accusations at the people who are trying to help, why don’t you catch the real sickos?” he snarled.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “I have never met either of these angels in my life. Don’t blame me for their past. I’m merely trying to prevent such an occurrence from repeating itself.” Then she slammed the door and the whirr of a modern electric engine faded into the distance.

Dean returned his attention to the angels and when Samandriel moulded himself into both adults’ sides, Dean wrapped his arms around the omegas and automatically rubbed the space between their wings.

The house was silent as Samandriel and Castiel clutched at him; the soft tick of the clock the only sound that shattered it. He could feel both angels nosing at him, so he closed his eyes and focused on soothing his agitated scent. Castiel’s hair tickled his jaw as the omega buried his nose deeper into Dean’s neck, one hand fisted in the front of his shirt as the other held Samandriel close, massaging a wing reassuringly.

“You’re safe,” Dean promised, voice barely a whisper and both angels clutched him a fraction tighter.

They pulled apart after a few minutes, Castiel’s gaze low and embarrassed, so Dean squeezed his shoulder gently and sauntered over to the couch. He flipped the TV on and quirked his lips when both angels plopped onto the opposite end of the same couch.

He turned the volume up and kept a covert eye on the angels as they began to doze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, comments and constructive criticism welcome :) Hope you enjoyed!


	9. Trust

_“But you are still part of the Garrison, correct?” asked Castiel, brow wrinkled in confusion._

_Hannah smiled in a way that said she had a secret that she wanted Castiel to figure out by himself. “Technically, yes. We work in league with the Garrison. We’re just a… separate division.”_

_Castiel’s frown deepened and Hannah laughed quietly. “Come now, Castiel. We’re at war! You didn’t think that the knuckleheads you worked with were the only ones protecting our town, did you? Winning a war takes far more skill than firing a few bullets and harassing omegas on the weekends.” She flicked her wings, halo glowing orange with amusement. “Alphas and betas can’t win a war by themselves. They need us, Castiel. Even if they like to believe that they don’t.”_

_She led him through a long, well-lit corridor; doors posted every few metres and colour scheme not unlike that of a hospital. The place was quiet and empty and Castiel couldn’t help but feel a little wary, despite the other omega’s cheery tone._

_He was in Eden’s Central Zone – the district with the densest cluster of businesses and high-rise towers. It wasn’t the city’s most populated zone, nor was it the largest, but some would argue that it was definitely the busiest considering it was known as the district that never slept. Traffic in the zone was as chaotic during the night as it was during daylight and for that reason, there were very few people that actually wanted to live there._

_Such busyness had never appealed to Castiel, which was why he had never visited Central before. It was a strange zone and the few people who lived there were stranger still, with dull eyes and continuously twitching wings and halos a deep, miserable blue. Castiel had never expected to find himself in one of the many looming towers._

_Hannah led him to a door, which unlike the others, had no silver numbers pinned to its surface. They entered a waiting room of sorts, except there were only two wooden benches and a single wilting houseplant perched on a tiny table in the corner of the room. In the centre of the room was a steel service elevator._

_She pressed the call button and they waited for it to arrive. “Zachariah would never have promoted you,” Hannah commented. “I’ve worked with plenty of people like him – plenty of_ alphas _like him – and they all act the same way. No matter what you do, Castiel, he would never have given you the promotion that you deserve. He would never acknowledge you as possessing the level of intelligence that most of his officers lie about having. He would never admit that you’re a better officer than he ever was.”_

_The doors opened onto a new floor and Castiel’s eyes widened at the waiting room he stepped into._

_The floor was a warm marble draped in thick, red carpet. The walls were stone, or at least made to look like stone and oil paintings were scattered around them, each with golden plaques stating names of people Castiel had only heard of in newspapers and radio broadcasts and heroic stories on TV. There were plush armchairs and tables filled with treats and nibbles and in one corner of the room was a huge aquarium filled with beautiful exotic fish._

_Castiel’s jaw fell slack and Hannah’s lips quirked upwards as she guided him towards another room, this one filled with computers and desks and filing cabinets and people. The air smelled like cookie dough and cake and people smiled and waved or nodded at Hannah as she weaved through their workspaces, Castiel trailing behind her like a child. Music lilted through the room as Hannah led Castiel to yet another door, this one composed of frosted glass._

_“My boss wants to meet you,” Hannah said. “We’re always looking for people like you – people who can actually catch real criminals rather than slap a pair of handcuffs on a tax evader and call it a good day’s work.”_

_Castiel stared at her, bewildered and she offered him a lopsided smile. “Don’t worry. Naomi’s more bark than bite. You’ll be fine.”_

_She opened the door and pushed him inside._

_Castiel jumped as the door slammed shut behind him. The room was drab compared to the one that lay outside it. The walls were grey and the air was cool and crisp. The desk was a professional black and nothing within the space bore any personal touches or hints as to the character of the person that dwelled within it._

_Behind the desk was a woman in a charcoal suit, with reddish hair and pure, white wings. A subtle scenting told Castiel that she was also an omega._

_She smiled at him._

_“Castiel,” she said. “Please, take a seat.” She gestured to the black leather chair opposite her desk and he took it slowly, uncertain why being in the room made him feel uneasy._

_“Naomi,” she introduced. “I’ve wanted to meet you for quite some time. You… have a talent.”_

_A mild frown graced Castiel’s features and the other omega clasped her hands together over her desk._

_“For catching criminals,” she clarified and he relaxed a little._

_“I’ve seen what you’re capable of,” she continued. “I’ve read your file and I know all about the demons at the station that you singlehandedly took down. I know about the demons in the warehouse. I know about all the times you’ve saved your teammates from being wounded or killed, even though you knew that they wouldn’t do the same for you if the roles were reversed. I know how high your arrest rate is and I know that you have managed to talk murderers out of killing their hostages. You’re a brilliant officer; the best Zachariah has, even if he won’t ever admit it.”_

_She leaned back in her chair and regarded Castiel carefully. “I want you to join my ranks, Castiel. Think of it as a promotion with a hefty pay rise.”_

_When no further explanation was forthcoming, Castiel frowned. “And what exactly is it that you’d be hiring me to do?”_

_Naomi’s smile widened. “Officially? I’d be promoting you to Investigator rank.”_

_Sensing an unfinished explanation, Castiel tilted his head. “And unofficially?”_

_The other omega chuckled. “Unofficially, you’d help your small team to solve a few demon-related problems. There are more demons hiding within our city than you know and bizarrely, a handful of angels try to protect them and offer them information about things we really don’t want them to know. You’d also help to prevent any terrorist activity we get wind of and you’d work the cases that the Garrison doesn’t know how to approach.”_

_The corners of Castiel’s mouth turned downwards. “I thought you_ were _the Garrison?”_

_“We are,” hummed Naomi. “Just a… higher division. We are the Host. We solve the crimes that the Garrison can’t.”_

_Castiel eyed her cautiously. “And they let omegas into the Host?”_

_She scoffed at the comment, as though it was the most ridiculous thought she had ever heard. “The Host was created by omegas because alphas and betas were utterly useless at catching anything more dangerous than a desperate thief with a shotgun. We stay in the shadows because it would upset their fragile mindsets if they realised that we were the only ones being of practical use in this war.”_

_Castiel blinked. “The whole division is comprised of omegas?”_

_“Unfortunately, no. Some alphas and betas have proven more skilful than most of their brutish counterparts, so the Host is made up of a variety of designations,” replied Naomi with an amused smile. “However, unlike the Garrison, sexism isn’t tolerated within these walls and anyone who gets caught breaking that rule is thrown into our dimly-lit basement and made to listen to the same three songs on repeat as they archive wrinkled case files from fifty years ago.”_

_Castiel barked out a startled laugh. “Seriously?”_

_Naomi winked at him and he found himself relaxing._

_“The pay here is three times that which you already earn and there is room for inflation,” she commented. “You will have a fairly high workload but you will be respected more for it and you won’t be expected to make coffee runs for other staff members.” She curled her lips in distaste. “A carpool can be arranged to pick you up from the station if transport is an issue.”_

_Castiel sat a little straighter, wings perking up and Naomi smiled at him once more._

_“Would that be something that interests you?”_

_He nodded and she handed him a small stack of papers. “A detailed explanation of what this job entails, your right, my rights as your employer and your expectations. The last couple of pages are what you sign if you wish to be transferred over to our division. You don’t have to give Zachariah notice that you’re leaving as this is considered a promotion.”_

_She stood and extended her hand, so he mirrored her movements before heading towards the door._

_“Thank you for this opportunity,” he said graciously, inclining his head a little out of respect and she waved him off._

_“Feel free to wander around. Get a feel for the place if you like.”_

_He smiled and left her office, halo glowing golden. He came face-to-face with a sparkling-eyed Hannah, and he admired their blue depths for a moment before raising an eyebrow at her in query._

_“Will you be joining our ranks?” she asked with a grin._

_He glanced at the papers trapped beneath his arm. "Possibly."_

_“Great,” she said before gesturing to another room. “Before you go, let me introduce you to the team you’d be working with. I’m determined to convince you to choose us over that dreadful old man; Zachariah.”_

_He followed her into another room titled ‘Team 3’, hidden behind frosted glass walls. Once inside, the room opened up into a world of bright colours, a handful of large wooden desks and vivacious plants. There were huge windows overlooking the busy zone and one wall was fitted with an impressive bookcase, whilst another supported a row of cabinets, on top of which there was an array of non-alcoholic beverages and a few bowls of snacks._

_Working at the desks were four angels, gazes flicking between their computer screens and notepads. At Hannah and Castiel’s entrance, each one of them glanced up._

_“Your challenge sucks,” complained one angel with an odd accent as he gazed at Hannah. He had stunning wings which shone with an array of pinks and purples and blues and greens depending on how he held them, making them look almost metallic under the bright lights._

_“Still not figured it out yet?” Hannah teased and the other angel pouted and turned his gaze to Castiel instead, suddenly looking far more intrigued._

_“Who’s this then?” he purred and Castiel felt a strange pull towards the other angel; a need to be close to him, to scent him and touch him and listen to his melodic voice and taste his lips-_

_“Quit it, Balthazar. This is Castiel. The new recruit I was talking about?” Hannah huffed and suddenly, Castiel’s head cleared and he realised he was standing in the middle of the room, wholly focused on the shiny-winged angel whose scent he couldn’t make head nor tail of._

_Balthazar chuckled and held his hands up in apology. “Ah. Sorry, Castiel. Thought you were a new secretary. We’re running quite low on those.”_

_From a desk on the opposite side of the room, a tall alpha with pale grey and milk chocolate wings muttered under his breath, “Probably because you keep using your powers on them.”_

_Balthazar laughed warmly and flicked his gaze upon the alpha. “You’re not jealous, are you, love?”_

_The alpha grumbled under his breath and made a show of concentrating on his notepad._

_Hannah bit back a snicker. “May I introduce you to Balthazar and Gadreel – the team’s happy couple.”_

_Gadreel rolled his eyes as Balthazar blew a kiss at him. Then, the colourful angel focused on Castiel once more and he stood, approaching him with an outstretched hand, which Castiel shook firmly._

_“Pleasure to meet you,” Balthazar said as he peered at Castiel’s black wings curiously. Castiel drew them tight to his back self-consciously. He was well aware of how ugly people thought they were due to their unusual darkness._

_“Don’t do that,” chided Balthazar quietly, gaze snapping to Castiel’s face. “They’re beautiful.”_

_Castiel stared at him, taken off-guard by the sincerity in his tone. Then Balthazar smiled cheerily at him before sitting on the edge of another desk, behind which a fiery-winged angel glared at him. His feathers looked like crackling flames as they shifted beneath the lights._

_“So, Castiel. Have you decided whether you want to work with us yet?” asked Balthazar._

_“I said I’d introduce him to the team first,” said Hannah. “I’m going to get back to that if it’s alright with you.”_

_Balthazar grinned cheekily. “Very well then. Carry on.”_

_Hannah pointed to the dark-skinned beta whose desk Balthazar was occupying. “That’s Uriel. He’s great at tracking people who don’t want to be found, which makes him great for sniffing out demons.”_

_Uriel nodded at Castiel in acknowledgement before returning to his work._

_“In the far corner is our team leader, Anna. She’s… ah… particularly lucky with practically every situation she runs into.”_

_There was a round of chuckles from the room and a ruby-winged beta looked up at Castiel and offered him a tiny smile._

_Hannah continued, “Gadreel is the guy who can get you out of a jam, fast. I’m the researcher and Balthazar is the distraction.”_

_“In more ways than one,” drawled Anna, glancing furtively at Gadreel, which made both Hannah and Balthazar chuckle._

_“What do you think of the team?” asked Hannah, turning to Castiel. “Could you imagine yourself working with us?”_

_Castiel’s smile widened and he nodded. “I believe so.”_

_Hannah’s wings fluttered a little and he found himself staring._

_“Fantastic,” Anna said. “I hope to see you soon then, Castiel.”_

_He dipped his head respectfully and Hannah guided him out of the room and towards the elevator. She pressed the button for the ground floor, then stepped out, leaving him alone._

_“I can’t wait to work with you,” she said earnestly, looking up at him through long eyelashes._

_Castiel grinned at her as the doors began to slide shut._

*             *             *

 

The morning air was warm and filled with the mingling aromas and sounds of the city. Market stalls lined the street, people cooing over fresh produce and homemade knickknacks. Staff polished display windows and welcomed people into their stores with bright smiles as managers lurked in corners and amused themselves by guessing how much money each customer would spend. Cars and buses revved their engines impatiently, their owners late for work and idly considering calling their managers to explain that they were sick and couldn’t come in, but ultimately deciding that they wanted the wage instead. Scents of sweet pastries and mouth-watering spices wafted out of corner cafés and expensive restaurants, enticing people into their doors. A few tall trees rose up from the concrete ground; a brief natural interlude from everything manmade and providing ample shade for easily-burnt skin.

Dean kept a subtle eye on both angels as they glanced around in cautious wonder. They stuck close together and startled at the bells of cyclists and the growling of powerful engines. Dogs sniffed at them as they passed, their owners barely able to control them, and freshly watered flowers dripped into their wings as they brushed past hanging baskets.

Dean frowned in dismay as a few onlookers pointed at the angels’ wings, whispering amongst themselves about the bandages constricting the huge appendages and more gossiped about the bald patches and scars littering Castiel’s wings. Dean was thankful that they couldn’t see between Samandriel’s feathers.

Castiel didn’t seem too bothered by their whispers, or maybe he just hadn’t noticed, but when a man distracted by his phone nearly tripped over Samandriel, he pulled his son closer and raised his wings in light warning to the people around them. A few wary humans made a point of giving him space, some stopping their own journeys to let him pass. A couple of angels crossed the street once they saw him and one tucked her wings tight to her back, head low and submissive as she passed. A small group of teenaged demons took one look at him and turned down a side street, but one demon who was accompanied by an elderly lady with a walking stick, narrowed his eyes at Castiel and sidled closer to the human. As he approached, he raised his own wings in clear threat and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Dean watched Castiel’s wings respond to the threat.

“Easy, Cas,” Dean whispered, slowing down so Castiel was directly behind him.

The angel didn’t look at him since he was too focused on the demon, but he did lower his wings a little.

Unfortunately, the demon wasn’t satisfied with the response and as he closed in on Castiel, he scented the air and determined that the angel was an omega. Dean could smell that the guy was a beta and he watched anxiously as the demon passed them and flared his wings intimidatingly at Castiel.

Castiel bristled and pushed his son behind him as he turned to face the demon, halo plunging into black and wings rising and curving forwards in preparation to attack. The demon bared his teeth and mirrored Castiel’s response, ensuring his wings shielded the little old lady from view and Dean’s eyes widened in alarm as the demon’s gaze slid to an inky black.

“Cas!” he scolded, but Castiel wasn’t listening and his own gaze began to glow an intense blue, feathers puffing up in anger.

People surrounding them stopped what they were doing to stare at the tense stand-off and finally, the elderly lady seemed to notice that there was something wrong.

“Grigori!” she snapped. “Behave yourself!”

The demon flinched and lowered his wings slightly, but when he didn’t take his gaze off Castiel, the old lady clicked her tongue impatiently. “Young man, if anyone tries to attack me, I’m quite happy to smack them upside the head with my stick.” She thumped said walking stick against the floor for emphasis. “Now let’s go. I have tinned pineapples to find.” She continued on her way, refusing to look back to see if Grigori was following.

Grigori stared at Castiel a little longer, unwilling to back down first, but then he flicked his gaze to the old lady walking further and further away from him and his eyes returned to their natural brown as he whirled on his heel and scuttled after her, taking her arm once he reached her. She patted his hand in praise and they headed down a side street.

Castiel’s wings sagged behind him, confusion marring his features. People started to whisper between themselves once more and Dean frowned.

“Cas, let’s go,” he grated out.

The angel ignored him, too busy staring at the side street the demon and old lady had wandered down.

Dean’s lips drew into a thin line and he grabbed the angel’s wrist, startling him. He instantly raised his wings and flashed his eyes blue, but Dean dragged him into a narrow alleyway out of view of the public.

Samandriel slunk behind Castiel, glancing between his father and Dean nervously as Castiel’s halo swung from brown to black.

“What was that?” Dean demanded as Castiel’s feathers began to puff up again.

The angel frowned and tensed himself, clearly expecting a fight.

“Stop that,” snapped Dean. “You can’t go picking fights in the middle of the sidewalk! Come on, man. You know better!”

Castiel began to relax a little, eyes fading to their normal colour.

“And flaring at _me_? What’s all that about?” huffed Dean, arms crossed.

When Castiel merely stared at him, Dean threw his hands up. “C’mon, I want an answer!”

Castiel reared backwards a little in surprise and pulled a tiny notepad from his pocket and a pen from another before slowly writing a response.

 

_You smelled angry and you grabbed my wrist after I ignored you multiple times when you called my name. I assumed you were going to punish me._

Dean scoffed at the note. “Oh, so you admit that you chose to ignore me telling you to cool it? I wasn’t sure if you’d gone deaf.” He crumpled the note and stuffed it into his pocket. “And of course I smell angry! I am angry! You nearly started a brawl with a demon in the middle of the street.”

Castiel frowned and scribbled out a new message.

 

_He was threatening Samandriel._

“No, you started it by raising your wings,” said Dean sternly. “People crossed the street because they were afraid to pass you. You made them nervous and that ain’t right.”

Castiel scowled furiously and handed Dean another note.

 

_You’re really going to lecture me on fear? Have you already forgotten what my son and I have faced?_

“Damn right I’m really going to lecture you on fear,” bit out Dean. “I know you’ve had it bad, but you can’t start fights in the middle of the street just because you’ve gone through what you have. You can’t blame innocent people for the Hell that you’ve faced!”

 

_I will protect my son and I won’t allow some filthy demonic abomination to threaten me._

Dean blinked at the caustic words and balled them up in disgust. He pointed an accusing finger at Castiel, scent becoming more bitter with his rising anger.

“Okay, that crap stops right now,” snapped Dean. “Demons have just as much right to be here as you do and you don’t get to threaten them because you fought some stupid war back in Heaven. The demons here wanted out just like you did and they don’t deserve you flaring your wings at them and making them nervous just because you can’t deal with your own problems.”

Castiel recoiled with wide eyes, obviously not expecting Dean’s response.

“No one was threatening Samandriel,” said Dean harshly. “You think the world is out to get you because you’ve been dealt a crap hand so far. Well, guess what, Cas? Not one person in this street gives a damn about you! They’re too busy trying to find their tinned pineapples and wondering where to go for lunch. You caused an issue that shouldn’t have happened, made a bunch of people nervous and caused an innocent demon to feel like he had to protect a little old lady from a dangerous angel. Not only did you do all that; you also turned on me!”

Castiel frowned, wings slowly drawing to his back as he began to lower his head.

 

_You grabbed me._

              

Once again, Dean scoffed at the note. “I grabbed you because you didn’t listen when I shouted your name multiple times. I couldn’t think of any other way of getting your attention. Don’t turn this on me – I put a lot of trust in you by bringing you here.”

Immediately, Castiel’s gaze turned defiant and he tilted his chin as he handed Dean another message.

 

_Why? Because I’m a violent monster who can’t be trusted around people? Do I belong in a mental institution since I’m clearly so dangerous? Am I considered too deranged to be around my own son?_

Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. “Well, I think you answered your own stupid question by the stunt you pulled five minutes ago!” he seethed. “Grow up, Cas! You are dangerous! You hospitalised one of the hostel staff and injured a few more. You beat me up because I tried to fix your wings. You smacked the doctor over the back of the head because you didn’t like her prodding at you. You threw Gabriel on the floor just because he said hello! You react to anything you don’t like with violence and then blame it on the stuff you’ve been through in your past.”

Dean took a step closer, intending on proving a point and he watched Castiel take one backward, wings immediately flaring as he pushed his son behind him.

“See?” Dean snorted. “Your automatic response is to fight me and all I’ve done is take one step forward.”

Castiel forced his wings down and scowled at Dean, muscles tense. His halo swirled with black, brown and white and he scribbled in the notepad.

 

_Alphas that smell like you currently do, raise their voices angrily and take threatening steps towards me do one of two things: they either beat me to a bloody pulp or they rape me. Which one are you about to do?_

Dean grimaced and relaxed his posture and scent slightly. “Neither,” he grumbled. “And I’m sorry I’m making you feel like that but you can’t keep solving problems with violence because of your past. You’re gonna have to learn that there are lots of decent people in the world and they’re not waiting in line to hurt you and your kid.”

He sagged and sighed quietly. “Like I said, I’m putting a lot of trust in you by bringing you to a city bursting with people, and that’s because I have faith in you, Cas. I know you’re not a deranged psychopath and I know that just because you don’t have a voice, it doesn’t mean you’re not completely aware of what’s going on around you. You’re smart and you’re a good dad, but you’re also scared and have no idea what to expect of people anymore. Violence worked before so now you lash out whenever you’re worried.”

The angel tucked his wings behind his back, frowning slightly as he stared at Dean. His halo was a muddy brown and his gaze filled with confusion.

“I know you’re not the guy everyone thinks you are,” said Dean softly, taking another step forward and feeling a flash of victory when Castiel didn’t retreat. “I know you’re not fragile or some sort of wild animal. You just don’t trust people easily and that’s okay. I was the same way when Lisa-” He cut himself off abruptly and shook his head, unable to stomach the memories.

“What’s not okay is you lashing out at perfect strangers,” said Dean firmly. “Got it?”

Castiel regarded him warily and Dean sighed again.

“I’m not going to beat you up or anything. Just… don’t do it again, alright?”

Castiel dropped his gaze submissively and nodded and Dean’s mouth turned downwards at the gesture. He always felt like crawling out of his skin when either angel acted submissive towards him – it always led his thoughts to Ketch and he despised the idea of the angels comparing him to that depraved sadist.

“C’mon,” he mumbled. “Let’s… uh… let’s get that paint and then we’ll see about some lunch.”

Castiel didn’t respond, trailing behind Dean at some distance as he curled a protective wing around Samandriel. Dean’s mood was effectively ruined for the rest of the morning.

 

*             *             *

 

By lunchtime, Deans spirits had lifted considerably. He found a quiet café and told the angels that they could pick whatever they liked, and both angels poured over their menus with all the enthusiasm of two beings whom had never been given a choice before.

When they finally tucked into their meals, Dean was so happy at seeing their bright yellow halos that he paid for dessert as well and he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face when their halos swung to gold. They left the café, sated and content and Dean carded his fingers through Samandriel’s wing unconsciously as they emerged onto the street.

He glanced around, wondering where they should go next, when a small, warm body leaned into his side.

Surprised, Dean glanced down to find Samandriel pressed into him, one wing outstretched to allow Dean’s fingers room to move and the little angel’s eyes closed, a tiny frown on his face as he concentrated on the alpha’s touch and forced himself to remain calm.

Honoured by the demonstration, Dean licked his lips and kneaded his fingers through the wing a bit more deliberately.

“Enjoy lunch?” he asked softly and Samandriel nodded, eyes still shut.

“Thank you,” Samandriel whispered as Dean began to massage the base of the wing.

After a few moments, Dean smiled and ruffled Samandriel’s hair and the young angel glanced up at him with a shy smile of his own.

“I think we should go to this place I know and get us all enrolled in some signing classes,” stated Dean, grinning at Samandriel and missing Castiel’s softened gaze. “It’ll get you guys out of the house for a bit and maybe entertain us all for a couple hours each week. What do you think?”

Samandriel perked up and nodded and Dean flicked his attention to Castiel to find the older angel wearing a small smile.

“Great,” said Dean, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. “This way.”

Dean didn’t notice how the angels followed him with barely three feet between them. He led them to an old three-story building, which looked as though it had seen the days of the city’s birth. It was tall and narrow and a little bit crooked but its roof had been restored and its windows and doors were new and freshly painted. It was well looked-after.

Castiel and Samandriel trailed him into the quirky building and they were faced with a reception area filled with mismatched chairs and exceptionally average pictures of landscapes lining the walls. There was also a worn desk and a dull silver bell on its top.

Dean glanced around before shrugging and tapping the bell. A moment later, an older woman with tight black curls and long earrings composed of peacock feathers trotted down the stairs, looking frazzled and a little eccentric with her bright lilac lipstick and clashing clothes.

“Can I help you?” she asked a bit abruptly and with a slight accent, hands moving quickly as she spoke. She glanced first at Dean and then at the angels.

“Uh… yeah. We were wondering how you go about signing up for classes and stuff,” said Dean, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“May I ask whom is enrolling?” she asked, frowning lightly at him as though trying to work out if he was lipreading or could simply hear her words.

“All of us, I guess,” said Dean. “Although depending on my shifts, it could just be these two some weeks.” He jerked a thumb over to the angels.

The woman nodded and scrutinised both angels before turning her attention back to Dean. “And who is non-hearing?”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Why don’t you ask ‘em?”

She straightened slightly and turned her attention to the angels again and Castiel pulled the notepad from his pocket and wrote a quick message before handing it over to her.

She frowned as she read it, then her eyes widened in surprise and she cast her gaze to Castiel.

“You can’t speak? My apologies. I didn’t realise.” She passed the note back to Castiel and offered her hand.

“Imani,” she introduced.

Castiel gently touched his son’s shoulder and the young angel looked up at Imani and placed a hand over his chest.

“My name is Samandriel,” he said slowly before gesturing to his father. “And this is my dad, Castiel.”

She quirked her lips in amusement and Dean felt pride well within his chest.

“He’s learning to speak English,” he added. “Hasn’t been at it long but he’s a fast learner.”

Imani smiled at him warmly and once Samandriel had worked his way through the comment, he grinned at Dean, wings fluttering slightly.

“I see,” she hummed. “And you are?” She sidled closer to him and at that distance, Dean could smell that she was an omega. It explained Castiel and Samandriel’s relaxed attitudes.

“Dean,” he said, extending a hand. She shook it firmly.

“Dean. You must be proud of your son,” she smiled.

He blinked and shook his head. “Oh, I’m not his dad. I’m their mentor for that mentoring programme thingy.”

Imani frowned in confusion and glanced between him and the angels. “I’m sorry. With the way you speak of them and how they both look at you, I assumed you were a family. You must have been living together for quite some time.”

Dean’s cheeks flushed pink and he shook his head again. “Ah… just over a month.”

Her eyes widened and she tilted her chin. “…I see. Apologies, again.” She gestured to the stairs. “How about I show you around whilst we discuss class options?”

Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that someone had mistaken Samandriel for his son and Castiel as his mate, Dean nodded silently and allowed the angels to go first. Samandriel looked around with curious eyes but Castiel’s halo glowed a dim pink as he shuffled after Imani, wings tucked to his back and hands buried in his pockets.

Dean regarded the older angel carefully and mused over how he had never seen the omega looking so… embarrassed.

“Beginner classes take place on Tuesdays at six and Thursdays at eight p.m. so you may choose whichever time suits you. Thursdays are a repeat of Tuesday’s material and all beginner classes occur on the second floor.”

She took them to a wide, open room littered with tables and chairs and whiteboards and a large TV. It reminded Dean of High School and he bit back a chuckle.

“You’ll be taught in here as a group and there will be at least three staff members present each lesson to help you if you have any problems. Toilets are at the far end of the room.” She turned to them, hands perched on her hips. “That’s about it, really. Any questions?”

Castiel scribbled something down on his notepad before handing it over to Imani and Dean restrained himself from peering over her shoulder. She scanned through Castiel’s note and nodded.

“There aren’t any angels taking the beginner classes, but there is an angelic instructor who has been with us for a long time. We also have a demon taking the beginner class.”

Castiel stiffened and Dean frowned at him reproachfully before Imani could analyse his reaction. Reluctantly, Castiel relaxed.

“Any other questions?” she asked and when there was no response, she laced her hands together. “Would signing lessons be something that interest you?”

Castiel nodded and Dean said, “Definitely.”

She guided them towards the stairs with a smile. “Alright then. Let’s get you signed up.”

 

*             *             *

 

They returned home for a late evening meal and as the sky darkened to inky black peppered with glittering stars, Samandriel opened the back door.

“Where are you going, buddy?” asked Dean as he carried their plates into the kitchen to be cleaned.

“Persephone,” stated Samandriel. “Dinner.”

Dean placed the dishes into the sink. **_“Let me wash up first and I’ll come help you, okay?”_**

The little angel scrunched his nose up. “I can do it.”

Lips quirking upwards, Dean jerked a thumb at the dishes. **_“I know, but just give me five minutes so I can help you make the milk.”_**

Samandriel shook his head and edged into the darkness outside. “I can do it,” he insisted and before Dean could reply, the angel was gone.

“Samandriel,” Dean called, switching on the taps for the hot water. A hand on his shoulder startled him and he whirled around to find Castiel gazing at him with a small smile.

He made a shooing motion with one hand before gesturing to himself and then the sink and Dean understood the message loud and clear.

“You sure?” he asked. “I can do this when I come back.”

Castiel shook his head and made another shooing motion, smile growing slightly and Dean’s eyes widened as he was chased out of his own kitchen by an angel wielding a dish cloth.

He headed towards the field, watching as Samandriel greeted Hera before scuttling towards the tiny brown lamb nestled in a thicket of long grass. He smiled to himself as Samandriel gently picked the creature up and began making his way out of the field, struggling to see over the lamb that was currently sucking his chin in search of milk.

Dean changed course and followed Samandriel towards the stable, strolling behind slowly as he watched the little angel deposit his pet in its bed before wandering into the tack room for the milk powder. Dean leaned against the doorway, saying nothing as Samandriel searched for measuring jugs and scales.

The thick, cloying scent of condensed milk filled the air and Dean had a flashback to a happier time when his mom was alive and teaching him and Sam how to feed orphaned baby animals. He remembered the way the powder stained their clothes and made their shoes smell like sweet milk for days on end. He smiled sadly at the memory before returning his focus to Samandriel.

The angel was transferring milk powder from a huge bag into the jug and when he had reached the correct weight, he scurried past Dean to fill the jug with water. He filled the jug with water from an outdoor tap and shuffled back inside the tack room to pour it into a bottle.

 ** _“We need to warm it first,”_** said Dean finally and Samandriel glanced up at him in brief confusion before the expression cleared and he ducked his head sheepishly.

Dean offered him a reassuring smile before gesturing towards the house and Samandriel trailed after him, jug and bottle in hand.

They placed the jug in the microwave and as Samandriel came to stand beside Dean, he ruffled the boy’s hair. At first, Samandriel flinched, but then he grinned up at Dean and the alpha winked at him. From the sink, Castiel hid a smile.

A joyful _ding_ bounced off the walls and Dean retrieved the jug and glanced down at Samandriel.

“Hot,” he said, keeping hold of the jug and Samandriel nodded in understanding before offering the empty bottle to Dean.

He filled it and as they wandered to the stables and waited for it to cool, Dean grabbed Hera’s headcollar and gestured for Samandriel to help him. The little angel stuck to his side until they reached the field and once Dean had fixed Hera’s lead rope in place, he handed it to Samandriel and the omega perked up enthusiastically and led the huge Clydesdale out of the paddock.

By the time they had strung up her hay net, refreshed her water and locked her away, the milk had cooled considerably and Dean passed the bottle to Samandriel. He sat on the straw beside Dean and Persephone bounded over to him, stumbling on her three legs, and sucked greedily, long tail wiggling happily. Dean frowned at the brown matter collecting on her tail already.

 ** _“I’ll be back,”_** he said quietly and Samandriel nodded distractedly, too focused on the lamb.

Dean jogged to one of the storage barns and returned to the stables a few minutes later with an orange ring and a small, clawed device, which looked similar to a pair of pliers.

 ** _“Sheep collect dirt on their tails when they go to the toilet,”_** explained Dean as Samandriel gazed at the device curiously. **_“They can’t get rid of it, so it builds up and flies lay eggs in it. Maggots eat the sheep’s skin and it’s really painful.”_**

He rolled the ring onto the claws of the plier-like device. “Flystrike,” Dean said, not knowing if there was a word for the disease in Enochian.

Samandriel nodded and frowned at the device, stroking Persephone’s head as she ate.

 ** _“We cut the tails shorter so that doesn’t happen,”_** said Dean and Samandriel stiffened in alarm, holding Persephone to his chest protectively.

 ** _“We put a ring around their tails and the end falls off after a few days. The ring is a bit uncomfortable, but after a few hours, they can’t feel it anymore,”_** explained Dean softly. **_“Like putting a rubber band around your finger. Leave it on for too long and you can’t feel the tip of your finger.”_**

Samandriel didn’t look too pleased with the idea but after a moment of contemplation, he hesitantly relinquished his grip on his pet. Dean glanced at him apologetically and trapped Persephone between his ankles. She wriggled frustratedly, eying the unfinished bottle in Samandriel’s grip, but eventually stood still and Dean quickly snapped the ring around her tail. Like a trooper, she merely wiggled her tail and once Dean released her, she pranced back to Samandriel and latched onto the bottle once more.

Samandriel’s smile slowly returned and Persephone drank the bottle dry and still continued to suck. When she registered that the bottle was empty, she plodded onto Samandriel’s lap and after a bit of wobbling, curled up and closed her eyes. Samandriel gazed down at her lovingly and stroked his hand over her back, tilting his head slightly in a way that Dean was beginning to recognise as him listening to her thoughts.

His head straightened after a few minutes and Dean noticed that Persephone was fast asleep in the little angel’s lap.

A few moments later, Dean startled as a head lay against his shoulder and he cast his gaze to Samandriel, who was stroking the lamb with half-lidded eyes and drooping wings. His halo glowed yellow above his crown and Dean found himself carding his own fingers through the boy’s wings, gentle and soothing and eventually, Samandriel’s eyes fell completely shut.

Dean tugged him tighter to his side and Samandriel pressed into him, pushing his wing into Dean’s warm palm as he made himself comfortable. After a while, the hand petting Persephone stilled and Samandriel’s breaths deepened.

Dean observed the little angel, scrutinising the burns hidden beneath his feathers and the few scars littering the surface of the wings. His mouth turned downwards angrily and he carefully wrapped his arm around the boy and nuzzled his head, breathing in his sweet scent and being careful not to catch the halo of light circling the area above his crown.

He was pleased to note that Samandriel smelled content and he lightly stroked a hand over his side, trying to soothe his own fury over Ketch’s abuse of both angels.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he stiffened and held Samandriel a bit tighter as he twisted his head to look at whoever was watching them.

Castiel was leaning on the top of the stable door, regarding them both silently. His halo was dandelion-yellow and a small smile graced his features as he gazed at Dean warmly.

The alpha immediately relaxed and gestured down to the sleeping angel snuggled into him.

“I think it’s time for someone to go to bed,” he whispered and Castiel’s halo grew a fraction brighter as his smile widened.

Dean cautiously untangled himself from Samandriel before lifting him into his arms bridal-style. Castiel opened his mouth to protest, but Dean shook his head as Samandriel cuddled into his chest.

“It’s alright, I’ve got him.”

Castiel stared at Dean for a moment before opening the door for him and they made their way into the house. Dean deposited the little omega on the angels’ bed (they still hadn’t chosen their own yet and Dean didn’t see any reason to push them) and Samandriel stirred slightly as Dean’s warmth left him. His brows pinched together and his hand twitched towards the alpha, so Dean smoothed his palm through his wing and Samandriel settled again.

He pulled the boy’s shoes and socks off on autopilot – the same way he used to undress a young Sam for bed when his brother was too exhausted to move after a long day on the farm. He was about to remove his shirt and pants but paused upon the realisation that this wasn’t his brother and he wasn’t entirely sure how either traumatised angel would take to an alpha removing the youngest’s clothes, even though his intentions were innocent.

He stepped away from the bed and turned to Castiel. “You can do the rest, right?” he asked awkwardly and Castiel nodded but his eyes were warm and fond and Dean found himself smiling lopsidedly at sparkling pools of blue.

“I’ll uh… I’ll leave you both. Goodnight,” he said, shuffling over to the door and missing Castiel’s affectionate gaze as he left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right guys, this will be the last chapter for about 2 weeks because I'm in Cyprus and don't have access to my computer! Hope you enjoyed the chapter anyway!


	10. Safe

The _air was warm; stiflingly so. They had been sent out by Naomi to deal with a hostage situation that the Garrison had no chance of resolving without casualties. It was Castiel’s first serious case with the Host and he couldn’t deny that he was nervous, even though he was determined to prove his worth to the team._

_They were in a classroom full of fledglings no older than eleven. Castiel had never been interested in children and their often-reckless actions and rude mannerisms, but the stench of fear and anxiety permeated the air and made even Castiel long to comfort the younglings – particularly the one that was being held captive by a navy-winged demon at the front of the classroom; a blade at her throat and tears streaming down her cheeks as the demon gripped her shoulder hard enough for his fingernails to bite through her skin._

_Castiel’s team was grim-faced as they took their positions. He counted a total of five demons prowling around the room, threatening the children and their teacher with hostile wing flares and overpowering alpha scents. The teacher looked as though she had already had a skirmish with one demon as her arm was bruised and she clutched it awkwardly to her chest as though broken, whilst she sat in a corner defiantly, the children sticking close._

_Castiel and Gadreel were posted outside the classroom’s closed door, silent and waiting for instructions from Anna. Hannah had researched the layout of the school and was currently hidden inside a rather average-looking white van, microphone active and laptop perched on her knee. Beneath the classroom windows crouched Uriel and Anna, hands on their weapons and breaths steady in a way that spoke of their experience with previous situations similar to the one they were facing._

_Inside the classroom, on the West wall above the teacher’s desk, lay an air vent big enough for a slim adult angel to squeeze through and that was where Balthazar was located. His earpiece flickered to life as Anna whispered a soft order and he closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself before sliding towards the end of the vent. As with most school structures, the workmanship was of poor quality and the vent cover clattered to the floor with very little effort on Balthazar’s part, the single screw that was holding it in place rolling under the teacher’s desk, never to be seen again._

_The lithe angel eased himself out of the vent gracefully, a charming smile brightening his face when over half a dozen guns and blades swung in his direction._

_Castiel’s heart leaped to his throat and his wings twitched involuntarily. He gasped when Gadreel yanked him down from the tiny window with a reproachful frown and a hand gesture that vaguely translated to ‘Keep down’. Castiel ducked his head in apology and pressed himself against the wall once more, itching to check how Balthazar was fairing. How could the other angel possibly hope to face six demons by himself?_

_“Good afternoon,” drawled Balthazar with a winning grin and the demon closest to him, the one with navy wings, wrapped a hand around the throat of the child he was holding captive, before dragging her behind him roughly. She made a sound somewhere between a choke and a sob and the demon flared his wings at Balthazar and aimed a gun between his eyes._

_“Big mistake comin’ in here,” said the demon and his voice sounded like that of a person who smoked three packs of cigarettes per day._

_Balthazar flicked his gaze around the room quickly, and counted four demons and one behind him that he hadn’t yet caught the face of. It would have to do._

_“I can see that,” he hummed, fluffing his wings a little and glancing up at the large demon from under his eyelashes. “But surely you wouldn’t hurt me? I’m just looking for a good time.” He smirked at the demon, biting his lip seductively when the large alpha began to lower his gun._

_His grip on the child fell slack as Balthazar prowled towards him and the girl sprinted towards her teacher, tears staining her cheeks. The teacher held her close and flicked her gaze between each demon in confusion, watching as five of them seemed to forget about their weapons and began advancing on Balthazar._

_Balthazar fluffed his wings again and allowed the navy-winged demon to tug him into his arms. He tossed his gaze to the other three demons approaching them and didn’t protest as a nose wedged itself into his neck, scenting and nuzzling before a tongue grazed his skin._

_“Smell so good,” purred the demon holding him and Balthazar hid a grimace at the stench of smoke curling into his nostrils. “Mine,” the alpha growled possessively as he scraped characteristic demon fangs over Balthazar’s pulse point._

_The angel held still and let the demon paw and nip at him, eyes trained on the three demons approaching him and when they were close enough to touch, he groaned the code phrase, head falling backwards onto the shoulder of the demon behind him._

_“Need you.”_

_Castiel startled as Gadreel kicked the door off its hinges. He scrambled into the room as Uriel and Anna crashed through the window and Balthazar threw his gaze towards Gadreel with a yelled, “On your right!”_

_In the corner of the room stood a younger demon with grass-coloured wings; the fifth demon Balthazar had not been able to see upon his entrance. This demon appeared confused by his friends’ sudden infatuation with the angel and he was quick to raise his weapon when the other angels barrelled into the room. He had forgotten to flick the safety catch off though and Gadreel whirled on him within a second of Balthazar’s shout._

_“You really don’t want to do that,” he said calmly, closing in on the young alpha. “In fact, you don’t want to hold that gun at all.”_

_The demon paused, blinking at Gadreel for a moment before glancing at his own gun in surprise and dropping it as though it burned his skin. He glanced up at Gadreel again in confusion and seemed to register what he had just done and he bent down to retrieve the weapon, but Gadreel was much quicker and he slid it across the classroom and pinned the shocked demon against the wall._

_Around Balthazar, the demons’ minds began to clear of the lust-filled cloud they had been subjected to and they frowned at Balthazar, searching for a reason as to why something felt wrong about the whole situation. As their eyes focused and slid to black in outrage, Uriel drove his blade into one demon and Anna shot another. They crumpled to the floor with an undignified thud._

_A white-winged demon gasped and shuffled backwards, grabbing her own pistol as her eyes flooded with fear, and Anna downed her within a second._

_Suddenly, Balthazar hissed and the team turned to find the navy-winged demon trapping him to his chest, a blade cutting into his throat and a drop of blood trickling down his soft skin._

_“If I die, I take him with me,” the alpha growled._

_Anna narrowed her eyes and subtly gestured to Gadreel. Gadreel released the demon he was holding and paid no heed to him when he ran out of the classroom. Castiel made a split-second decision and raced after the escapee, chasing him down the corridor and using his wings to boost his speed. They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs, struggling for a moment before Castiel managed to slam the demon’s head against the hard, polished floor, effectively knocking him unconscious._

_He listened carefully to Gadreel’s voice through his earpiece._

_“You don’t want to do that,” Gadreel said rather calmly. “You don’t want to kill anyone. You’re not a murderer.”_

_Castiel could hear the demon’s pause as Gadreel’s words infiltrated his mind. Then after a moment, he growled, “No. I do want to kill angels. You’re all scum. You’re all cruel and evil.”_

_There was a sharp intake of breath from Balthazar and when Gadreel spoke this time, his voice was a fraction more harried._

_"You don’t want to hurt anyone. You don’t want to use that knife on anybody. Can’t you feel it burning your neurones? The handle is eating through your palm, melting your skin the longer you hold it. It_ hurts _and you need to let go before it causes any more damage; before you lose your hand completely to that unbearable heat.”_

_There was a yelp from the demon and the clatter of a blade hitting the floor._

_Castiel heard a scuffle and the demon suddenly yelled, “Back off or I’ll bite him!”_

_Heart racing, he crept towards the classroom, leaving the unconscious demon slumped over the floor, and peered around the door to watch as the demon backed himself into a corner with Balthazar still trapped in his grasp. Balthazar’s neck was exposed and slick with sweat as the demon’s fangs hovered above his pulse point, ready to strike and the rest of Castiel’s team glowered at the demon, fists clenched and wings flared._

_“You want to release that angel,” said Gadreel impassively, but his wings were twitching and his halo was quickly turning silver. “He’s not done you any harm and you know it’s wrong to hurt him. You want to let him go.”_

_The demon seemed to contemplate these words for a moment before shaking his head and tightening his grip on Balthazar’s hair, tugging at it so his neck was further exposed._

_“Stop talking,” he snarled at Gadreel. “Stop trying to get inside my head!”_

_A flash of red caught Castiel’s eye and he flicked his gaze towards a small, familiar box on the wall a few metres from the door._

_“Would a fire alarm be enough of a distraction?” he whispered at the wall._

_“Do it,” came Hannah’s rushed reply._

_Castiel smashed through the glass and hit the button._

_Alarms blared throughout every corridor and every classroom and the shrill cacophony was enough to make ears pop. Castiel poked his head through the door again and watched as Balthazar rammed his blade into the startled demon’s stomach with a viciousness he hadn’t expected from the other angel._

_The demon grunted and collapsed against the wall, pulling the blade out and swiping at Balthazar in a vain attempt at taking him down. The tip caught Balthazar’s arm as he jumped backwards and at Balthazar’s pained hiss, Gadreel strode forwards and kicked the demon hard in the stomach until he fell to the floor in a heap._

_As Anna turned to the traumatised children and their teacher, Castiel jogged over to the limp demon sprawled out in the corridor._

_“I have a downed demon. Should I bring him in?” Castiel asked tentatively and surprisingly, it was Anna who replied._

_“Yes. Restrain him and put him in the van.”_

_Castiel watched as the children filed out of the classroom, each one looking terrified and scarred. He stopped a couple and gently asked if he could have their striped ties and when they handed them over, he used them to bind the demon’s wrists and ankles together._

_It wasn’t too long before the team piled into the van and when they did, Hannah smiled at Castiel and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear._

_“Well done,” she praised. “That was quick thinking. And you brought one back for us to question.”_

_He felt a smile of his own creep across his face and his halo shone golden, wings fluttering a little. “Thank you,” he said sincerely and Anna clapped him on the back with a smirk._

_“Not bad for your first day in the field, huh?”_

_He grinned as his team congratulated him and settled down as Hannah pulled away from the school and headed towards HQ._

_Beside him, Gadreel inspected Balthazar’s arm and neck, frowning unhappily at the fairly shallow cuts. Balthazar chuckled quietly and carded his fingers through a ruffled grey and brown wing and when that didn’t soothe the alpha, he pressed into Gadreel’s side and closed his eyes, allowing the larger angel to fuss over him._

_Castiel blinked at them and cocked his head to one side. He hadn’t realised that the pair were a genuine couple; they teased and insulted one another so much around the office that he had assumed everyone referring to them as a ‘happy couple’ was merely joking._

_“Disgusting, isn’t it?” said Hannah with a wink and Castiel quirked his lips at her as Gadreel rolled his eyes and Balthazar pointedly planted a sloppy kiss on his lover’s cheek._

_“I… didn’t realise you were actually…” said Castiel awkwardly and he subtly scented the air, once again trying to determine what designation Balthazar was. As usual, he received a confusing mess of scents that he couldn’t decipher._

_“Mates?” finished Balthazar. “Well, that’s because Gadreel isn’t exactly the most affectionate of alphas. He doesn’t like me touching him at work and he’s not particularly fond of kisses or any displays of tenderness, even when we’re at home.” Balthazar wore a sad smile and Castiel’s wings drooped a little with sympathy. He wouldn’t like to be in a relationship with anyone who didn’t want to show affection for him._

_Balthazar seemed so vivacious and brimming with personality – how had he mated someone who didn’t appreciate his love?_

_Suddenly, Anna snorted and Uriel pulled a face._

_“Not affectionate?” Anna scoffed. “How many times have I told you boys to stop sucking on each other’s faces during work hours? You must have been on your best behaviour around Castiel if he hasn’t seen you swallowing each other’s tongues in the photocopier room.”_

_Balthazar smirked, clearly proud of his own trouble-making and Gadreel huffed irritably before curling an arm around his lover and nuzzling his hair._

_“And I had to order a new desk after you broke my last one with your… activities,” grumbled Uriel, still sour about something that had happened over two years ago._

_Balthazar’s smirk widened into a grin and Gadreel made a noise that sounded a lot like a restrained snicker. He nosed at Balthazar’s neck where the demon had nipped him and left tiny red marks. He growled softly and kissed each one as though it would somehow erase their presence._

_Castiel watched the tender display in fascination, taking in everything he had just learned and idly wondering what Balthazar’s designation was and why he smelled so confusing._

_“You get used to it after a while,” hummed Hannah from the driver’s seat. “You’ve just got to ignore the sex noises.”_

_“And the way Gadreel gets all handsy whenever Balthazar has to use his power on a case,” drawled Anna in amusement as Gadreel smoothed a palm down Balthazar’s chest and splayed it possessively over his stomach. Balthazar sighed happily and tucked his head under the alpha’s chin, lacing their fingers together over his stomach._

_Balthazar smirked mischievously. “You’re all just jealous that you never get to see Gadreel’s massive-”_

_“I don’t want to see Gadreel’s massive anything,” interrupted Anna. “I’ve already seen more than I ever wanted to see of either of you.”_

_“You weren’t the one who found them in an unlocked toilet cubicle,” grumped Uriel._

_Castiel let them banter between themselves as he leaned closer to the pair to see if he could scent Balthazar any more clearly. He was familiar with Gadreel’s obviously alpha scent and he could push that aside as he tried to fathom out Balthazar’s. However, his sniffing mustn’t have been as subtle as he thought it was because Gadreel narrowed his eyes and raised his wings slightly in warning._

_The movement caught everyone’s attention and Castiel’s face tinted pink at being caught._

_“You two alright?” Balthazar asked with a small, puzzled frown._

_“He was scenting,” Gadreel whispered just loud enough for Castiel to catch and his halo burned a striking red as he dropped his gaze in shame._

_Balthazar blinked, then his gaze softened and he frowned disapprovingly at Gadreel._

_“He’s just curious,” he chided quietly._

_“It’s rude,” muttered Gadreel._

_Balthazar rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Castiel instead. “Ignore the overprotective giant. You have a question?”_

_Castiel shook his head in embarrassment and refused to look at the other angel. He could feel everyone’s eyes boring into his skull._

_“Come now, Castiel,” smiled Balthazar. “You can ask. I won’t be offended. I doubt you intend to mock me.”_

_Castiel risked a glance up at Balthazar and winced at the scent of Gadreel’s unhappiness._

_“I would never…” murmured Castiel, wings folding behind his back in a sign of submission towards the annoyed alpha._

_“Gadreel, enough,” snapped Balthazar and the alpha startled and ducked his head in apology, scent clearing and wings lowering to a more relaxed position._

_“Ask,” Balthazar said once he was satisfied that Gadreel was finished with his posturing._

_Castiel hesitated but when he realised that everyone was judging him on what he said next, he licked his lips and took a breath._

_“I understand it’s none of my business and you don’t have to answer anything I ask you but… your scent… it is, of course, very appealing and a truly unique thing… but I… I can’t…” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “I was just wondering what your designation is?”_

_Balthazar smiled patiently as the others shifted uncomfortably in their seats, refusing to catch Castiel’s gaze._

_“Beta,” said Balthazar._

_Castiel blinked and flicked his wings embarrassedly. “Of course,” he mumbled. “Apologies. I’m not sure why I couldn’t figure that out in the first place.”_

_“Probably because I was born an alpha,” replied Balthazar quietly and Castiel’s jaw clicked shut in surprise. He had heard stories of people changing designation but it was uncommon and generally frowned upon. In fact, people had been assaulted in their own neighbourhoods for such things._

_Although, people got assaulted for many things – for loving someone of the same gender, for loving someone of the same designation, for changing genders, for being a gentle alpha or a hard-headed omega… They lived in an intolerant world and there was nothing they could do about it._

_He wondered why Balthazar had transitioned to what was considered as a ‘lesser’ designation. Surely being an alpha had to be better than life as a transitioned beta? It was certainly safer._

_His silence ruffled Balthazar’s feathers and he watched the beta’s halo glimmer with silver._

_“I was born with a knot,” Balthazar said almost nervously. “And the healers pronounced me a healthy alpha baby. But when I grew older, it was apparent that I was never going to have a rut. I didn’t act like the other alphas either. My friends were all betas and omegas and I was more interested in fashion magazines than going to sports games.” His wings twitched and he chuckled humourlessly to conceal his fear of Castiel’s reaction._

_“When I was sixteen, I realised that I wasn’t only interested in betas and omegas. Unfortunately, after I reacted to another alpha’s rut by shoving my tongue down his throat, so did my parents and they… they kicked me out because there was obviously something wrong with me and they couldn’t stand it when the neighbours gossiped about me and the disgraceful way that they had raised me. I… didn’t fight back when I got beaten up in school because, well, I just didn’t have the instinct to. In fact, if it was an alpha that confronted me, all I could think about was submitting to them and in hindsight, that probably made everything worse. But I couldn’t help it. It was instinctual.”_

_Balthazar licked his lips, wings shaking slightly as Castiel stared at him in stunned silence. “At eighteen, I decided to transition. I clearly wasn’t meant to be an alpha. Turns out I didn’t have the hormones for it anyway. Only thing I had, and still have, is the knot.” He chuckled again but the sound was broken and it twisted something in Castiel’s heart. “I’m uh… not particularly fond of the idea of surgery. So many things can go wrong and I don’t want to get sepsis for the sake of chopping off an extra part down there. I guess that means I’m not a real beta but I can’t… I don’t want surgery and maybe it’s an irrational fear but you hear about the sorts of things that go wrong on TV and I-”_

_Gadreel nuzzled his mate’s cheek and pressed a loving kiss to his jaw to stop his rambling. “You don’t have to prove anything to him,” Gadreel whispered and Balthazar ducked his head and tucked it under the alpha’s chin in a rare display of insecurity._

_A tense silence filled the van and Castiel’s jaw worked open and closed for a few seconds before he shook his head with a frown and gazed at Balthazar with as much sincerity as he could muster._

_“He’s right. You don’t need to prove anything to me,” Castiel stated. “But if it makes any difference… I’m touched you trust me enough to tell me all of that. You’re very brave and very strong to go through everything that you have and then get to where you are now.” His lips quirked into a smile. “Actually, it’s pretty amazing, Balthazar.”_

_Castiel watched Balthazar’s halo surge towards the yellow end of the spectrum as his unusual wings fluttered gently._

_“Well… it wasn’t all doom and gloom,” he said, voice gaining more confidence as his face began to brighten upon realising that Castiel wasn’t going to ridicule him. “I had some help.” He glanced briefly to Gadreel, who appeared a lot more relaxed now that he knew Castiel wasn’t going to mock his mate._

_“No, I’ve only known you for seven years. The other twenty-two years you navigated on your own. Even now, you’re still standing up for yourself,” huffed Gadreel as he brushed a thumb over Balthazar’s cheek._

_“You’re always there when I need you,” murmured Balthazar, clinging to Gadreel’s shirt just a little too tightly to fool anyone into thinking that he was unaffected by the memories of his past._

_Castiel’s heart cracked a little more but he smiled reassuringly at Balthazar and after a moment of hesitation, the expression was returned._

_“Disgusting freak,” hissed the demon tied up in the corner of the van, apparently more awake than anyone had realised._

_Gadreel flared his wings angrily and Castiel scowled at soulless black eyes. Anna smacked the butt of her gun into the demon’s temple and he slumped against the metal wall once more, unconscious._

_The rest of the journey passed in silence._

*             *             *

Dean watched the tension build in Castiel’s shoulders. He watched how the omega’s wings twitched and hitched higher and higher throughout the lesson, his halo flickering between silver and a deepening grey. If black was anger, did grey precede it? Like aggravation or irritation?

The cause was obviously the demon seated at the table to their left, although Dean wasn’t exactly sure what it was that she had done to get Castiel so worked up. It was probably due to her just being a demon.

When Castiel’s feathers began to puff out, Dean huffed under his breath, “Cool it, Cas.”

Surprisingly, the angel did and his shoulders relaxed and his wings swung into a neutral position as he frowned at the table. Dean returned his attention to the angelic instructor and concentrated on the simple greetings that he was signing at them. It was only their second class and Dean had been dismayed to find that learning the alphabet wasn’t an easy task. Castiel had picked it up fairly quickly in the first lesson, but Dean knew that he wasn’t as smart as the angel. Even Samandriel remembered more than he did.

He startled when a note slid in front of him and he blinked down at the familiar script.

 

_She keeps staring at me._

Dean frowned and flicked his gaze to the demon to find that she was, indeed, staring intently at Castiel’s wings.

“Maybe she thinks you’re hot,” whispered Dean, then he clamped his mouth shut as the instructor glared at him.

Castiel pulled a face and glanced at Dean as though he had just crawled out of a nuclear waste dump. Five minutes passed before Castiel’s wings twitched irritably again and he scribbled out another note.

 

_I don’t like how she’s eying Samandriel._

Dean closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. “She’s not eying Samandriel. She’s probably just curious about angels. Maybe she’s never talked to one before.”

Castiel pursed his lips and Dean scowled back at him. “You’re fine, Cas. Stop looking for conflict.”

Castiel crossed his arms like a petulant child and leaned back in his chair, refusing to look at Dean. Beside him, Samandriel glanced between the adults in confusion before eagerly returning his attention to the other angel in the room.

Zephon, like Castiel, was an omega and he had striking violet and golden wings, a handsome face and a smoky voice. He was tall and dark-skinned and he clearly had a soft-spot for children, which Samandriel had noticed immediately and planned on taking advantage of.

Whenever Samandriel showed his enthusiasm for a certain sign or asked for help on a translation, the other angel would smile softly at him and pay extra attention to him. The rest of the class had already worked out Samandriel’s game and it appeared to amuse them so Dean wasn’t about to interfere. Besides, Samandriel was the only child in the class and if everyone wanted to fall in love with his mischief, who was Dean to ruin the little omega’s fun?

A soft growl caught Dean’s attention and he snapped his gaze to Castiel, who was now staring at the demon through narrowed eyes, lip curled slightly to bare a few teeth. The demon blinked at him slowly, sunset-painted wings relaxed behind her.

“Cas,” Dean hissed under his breath, earning himself another glare from Zephon. He grabbed Castiel’s wrist and the omega startled and bared his teeth at Dean instead before he recognised the alpha’s face and merely frowned at him.

“Quit it,” Dean growled quietly, “or so help me I’ll drag you out of this room and we won’t be coming back.”

Castiel’s lips drew into a thin line, indignance burning in his gaze as his halo began to speckle with black.

“Stop causing trouble,” Dean warned lowly just as Zephon arched an annoyed eyebrow.

“Is there something that you’d like to share with the class, Dean?”

Dean straightened, cheeks reddening like a schoolboy who had just been caught aiming spitballs at the head of the person in front of them. Beside him, Castiel smirked.

“Huh? Oh, uh… no. Just… asking Cas about the sign for the letter ‘S’.”

Zephon looked as though he didn’t believe a single lie-infested word crawling out of Dean’s mouth. He smiled wryly. “Maybe if you didn’t talk so much through class, you’d remember.” He signed the letter anyway and continued with the session.

Dean shot Castiel a filthy glare and the angel’s smirk widened. He appeared particularly pleased with himself and he signed the letter S at Dean sarcastically.

Below the table top, where no one else except he and Castiel could see, Dean flipped up his middle finger.

Castiel’s face broke out into a grin.

Dean felt his own face threatening to crack into a reluctant smile at the angel's sudden swing in mood and he leaned back in his chair and casually tossed an arm over the back of Castiel’s. He didn’t notice he had even done anything until Castiel carefully pressed into the arm, making himself comfortable.

Dean licked his lips nervously as soft feathers grazed his knuckles and he waited all of three minutes before curiosity got the better of him. He stroked two gentle fingers over the feathers at the base of Castiel’s wing and the angel tensed briefly before slowly exhaling and settling into the touch.

Smile widening, Dean shifted his arm so he could toy with the silky onyx feathers more deliberately. They felt like little butterflies fluttering under his fingertips and he kneaded his fingers into the muscles below, soft at first and harder when Castiel’s wing extended to allow him more access.

Dean massaged the muscles and carded his fingers between each feather and it was only when he switched his attention from Castiel’s half-lidded eyes to what he was actually feeling, did he begin to notice the scars and burns marking the skin. His smile fell as he carefully traced the damage and Castiel’s expression morphed into one of shame and distress, jaw clenched and eyes glassy as his halo spotted with blues and reds and the occasional purple.

Dean cast his gaze to the bandages twined around Castiel’s wings and his lips drew downwards with a frown in the picture of helplessness. He couldn’t make the wounds heal any faster, if they even healed at all. Castiel would be stuck with the reminders of his abuse for a long time.

He thrust his hand into Castiel’s feathers, roaming over the scapulars and the marginal coverts and Castiel let his eyes slip shut as he lowered his wings, allowing Dean to brush over the alula at the uppermost arch of the appendage. The angel’s breath shook but only Dean could hear it, so he smoothed his palm over the top of the wing in what he hoped was a soothing gesture.

Castiel swallowed thickly and fixed his eyes on the instructor at the front of the room, so Dean continued to pet the feathers and manipulate the muscles for as long as Castiel would allow him to. He had a feeling that the angel hadn’t experienced a gentle touch to his wings for a very long while and if the trembling of the great limbs was anything to go by, he suspected that the omega very much needed the contact.

Through the corner of his eye, he observed Castiel’s expression and when his gaze turned watery, he grabbed one of Castiel’s notes and turned it over to scribble on the back one-handedly.

 

_Tell me if it gets too much._

Castiel blinked down at the note before turning his emotional gaze onto Dean. He nodded shakily but there was gratefulness shining in his eyes and then he was turning to the instructor once more, licking his lips and swallowing as though there was something stuck in his throat.

Dean explored what he could of the wing without looking at it. A few feathers came loose beneath his fingers and he pulled them out as gently as possible. He straightened the others and slipped his fingertips under parts of bandages where he knew no wounds were present and he scratched the itches that Castiel hadn’t been able to access in weeks. He rubbed muscles and avoided particularly sore burns and when he next stole a glance at Castiel’s face, silent tears rolled down it despite the angel trying to keep up a blank expression.

Dean’s eyes widened and he pulled away from the wing only for Castiel to latch onto his wrist almost desperately. He didn’t write anything or even look at Dean but his grip was firm and he made no attempt to dry his tears.

Heart aching, Dean shuffled closer and Castiel released his hand, so Dean plunged it into the wing he hadn’t yet touched. Castiel released a wobbly breath and tilted his head towards Dean slightly, subtly scenting him in a manner Dean didn’t immediately catch. When he finally noticed, he angled himself towards the angel and Castiel barely restrained himself from burying his nose into Dean’s neck in a re-enactment of the evening that Bela had paid them a visit.

He closed his eyes as he breathed in Dean’s comforting scent and the alpha leaned closer to his ear. “You okay?” he asked softly. “Do you want to go?”

Castiel shook his head and his willpower faltered as he leaned a fraction closer to Dean’s neck. More tears slipped down his cheeks despite his valiant effort to stay neutral.

Dean gazed down at the omega worriedly and his hand slid to his back, stroking it soothingly. Castiel’s breath hitched and Dean made a split-second decision.

“Crap!” he yelped, startling everyone in the room as he jumped out of his seat. He drew his hand to his chest and clutched at it with a wince.

“Is everything alright, Dean?” asked Zephon, alarmed.

Dean made a show of looking pained. He glanced quickly to his hand before puffing his cheeks out and pretending to feel queasy. He shook his head.

“Nail under the table,” he said weakly. And then in a more distressed tone, “I don’t do blood.” He puffed out his cheeks again.

Zephon’s eyes widened and the rest of the class stared at him in either confusion, sympathy or surprise. They were probably thinking how alphas were supposed to be tough and here Dean was, about to throw up over a drop of blood.

Dean tossed his gaze to a very stunned Castiel and whined, “Cas…”

He was particularly proud of the little whimper as he trailed off.

“Bathroom?” pleaded Dean and Castiel’s mouth worked open and closed for a moment before he sprung to his feet and led Dean towards the toilets, gesturing for Samandriel to stay seated whilst he cleaned Dean up.

“There’s a first aid kit in the store room. Should I get it?” asked Zephon hurriedly, but Dean shook his head.

“It’s not deep, it’s just… _oh_ … look at the blood…” he moaned pathetically before Castiel hauled him into the toilets.

Once the door shut and they were alone, Dean dropped his hand and turned his attention to the angel, smiling slightly at Castiel’s confused expression as he inspected the alpha’s hand for a non-existent wound. He looked at Dean in befuddlement.

“There was no nail,” Dean offered quietly, grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper and handing them to the puzzled angel. “I just thought you needed a moment to… y’know.” He nodded to Castiel’s tear-stained cheeks.

The angel’s eyes widened and he stared at Dean for a few seconds before dabbing his face with the toilet paper. Silence fell between them as Castiel refused to meet Dean’s gaze, until finally Dean stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged awkwardly.

“I can’t imagine what’s going through your head right now, but uh… I didn’t mean to upset you back there. I shouldn’t have touched your wings and I’m really sorry if I hurt you or reminded you of any of the bad stuff-”

Dean snapped his mouth shut as Castiel slowly approached him. Before he had time to wonder what was going on, the angel slid his arms around him and pressed his nose into his neck, breathing in deeply. Dean froze uncertainly, but then he wrapped his arms around the angel and returned the impromptu hug, stroking a wing idly as he did so. Cool dampness seeped into the skin of his neck and he held Castiel a fraction tighter and listened to the angel’s shaky breaths.

Fists curled into the back of his shirt and Castiel’s halo blazed with a myriad of colours; each one revealing a glimpse of his shame and anger and sadness and pain – of his fear and anxiousness and confusion…

“You’re safe,” whispered Dean. “I promise you’re safe.”

Castiel sobbed into Dean’s shoulder, shoulders vibrating with every silent tear. He clutched onto Dean like a lifeline and Dean tried to keep a lid on his emotions; tried to remain calm for Castiel’s sake, but the angel’s distraught scent and spasming wings and heaving sobs were too much for him.

His scent overflowed with protectiveness and he rumbled low in his chest as he attempted to curl himself around the broken angel. He petted his hair and raked a hand through a wing and rubbed his back and the angel pushed closer, spewing waves of desperation and need. He craved comfort and a kind touch after a lifetime of agony and abuse and Dean was determined to give the omega everything he could.

“I’m here,” he breathed. “I’m here, Cas. Show me what you need.”

Castiel backed him into a corner and as the cool tiles pressed against his spine, Castiel plastered himself up against Dean’s front. He slipped his wings between the alpha and the wall and arced his arms around Dean tightly before tucking his head under the alpha’s and closing his eyes. Dean held him close, nosing at his hair and stroking his back until Castiel gently guided one of his hands to his wing. Dean smiled into dark tufts.

“I know I’m not good with words and emotions and stuff,” began Dean after a little while, “but you know you can come to me if you get, I don’t know, sad or something? I have no idea how to help you or Samandriel through the stuff you’ve been through but I… I’m pretty good at listening. And I hoard cookies. Oh, and I’m getting the hang of making tea… I think. Y’know, if that’s… if any of that’ll make you feel a tiny bit better.”

Dean straightened as Castiel wedged his nose into his neck and blatantly scented at him. The angel fluttered his wings as Dean carded his fingers through them and he settled contentedly against the alpha’s chest. Dean thought he felt a weak smile brushing his skin.

“I mean it,” he whispered. “Either of you get upset or scared or whatever… you can always come to me, okay? Doesn’t matter where or when… I wanna help you fight this. I don’t care if I’m sleeping or at work or we’re arguing – you pick up the phone or you come to me. I’ll never turn either of you away.”

Dean frowned in disappointment as Castiel pulled away from his neck, but then the omega pressed their foreheads together and Dean closed his eyes, immediately relaxing as Castiel’s breathing evened out. They stood like that for a long time, breathing in each other’s scents and holding one another as though they couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.

“…Is everything alright in there? Do you need a band-aid?”

Dean pulled a face at Zephon’s voice and Castiel reeled backwards, pulling away from Dean entirely as his halo glowed a pinkish-red.

Dean failed to notice and stroked a wing obliviously.

“No, I… I think I’m good,” he called hesitantly, rolling his eyes. A smile quirked Castiel’s lips.

Dean grabbed an entire roll of toilet paper and tossed it towards Castiel, gesturing to his blotchy face.

Castiel dried his face and Dean led him out of the bathroom, tucking him into his side protectively despite the fact that it probably made him look like every possessive alpha stereotype ever. Castiel didn’t seem to mind.

As they took their seats, Samandriel stared at them like they were strangers and didn’t even try to hide the way he placed his hand on his father’s arm, determined to find out what he was thinking. Castiel’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth as if to reprimand his son but suddenly, Samandriel’s gaze softened and he released his father, glancing briefly to Dean before dropping his hands to his lap and returning his attention to Zephon.

Dean smoothed a hand over the few feathers that had become ruffled in his surprise and Castiel practically melted into his touch, smiling shyly and refusing to meet Dean’s gaze.

Dean grinned and settled into his chair and if Zephon noticed that there was absolutely nothing wrong with Dean’s hand, he didn’t say anything.

When the class ended, Dean reluctantly removed his hand from Castiel’s wing and smirked when the omega forgot to conceal his pout. Behind them, the sunset-winged demon continued to stare at Castiel as her human companion approached Zephon with a query.

Castiel rolled his shoulders uncomfortably and Dean raised an eyebrow. “Talk to her,” he encouraged quietly. “She just wants to say hi.”

Castiel looked uncertain but he glanced into Dean’s warm eyes and eventually nodded, determination sweeping over his features. Samandriel took his father’s hand and smiled up at him and Castiel returned the expression gratefully before whirling on the spot and slowly approaching the curious demon.

She was tall with red hair and broad shoulders and she wore a skin-tight leather get-up that made her wings pop. Dean held back, allowing Castiel to approach her on his own terms. He hoped that the demon would prove that her species wasn’t a threat on Earth and that Castiel had no reason to be prejudiced against them. Maybe they could even learn to be friends?

He watched from a distance as Samandriel introduced Castiel and himself to the demon, all smiles and bright eyes. She listened to him silently and Dean began to worry that she was deaf and couldn’t understand a word Samandriel was saying, but then she smirked and said something in what looked like the guttural syllables of Enochian and as she said it, her eyes slid to black and her wings hitched high in a very dominant pose and Dean’s optimism plummeted into the crust of the Earth at the scent of intimidating alpha.

He cursed inwardly as Castiel scowled and fanned his wings wide, pushing Samandriel behind him as he flashed his eyes blue at her in warning. She laughed and trailed her fingers through his feathers and he recoiled from her touch as though burned. She tittered again and bared a sharp fang at Samandriel from where he was peeking out from behind Castiel’s wing and she muttered something else, making Castiel’s halo plunge into black and Samandriel’s shine a combination of white and silver.

Dean made to step towards them but surprisingly, Castiel turned away from the demon with a thick scowl and dragged Samandriel with him. He stalked towards Dean with murder in his gaze as the demon continued to chuckle.

 ** _“Can we go?”_** asked Samandriel with a slight whimper and Dean winced before combing his fingers through a snowy wing.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “C’mon.” He herded both angels towards the exit and made sure to shoot the demon a livid glare as they left. She didn't seem to care.

“You two okay?” he asked as they stepped out into the lamp-lit street. Samandriel leaned into his gentle stroking and shook his head.

 ** _“She said that all lesson she had been imagining plucking out our feathers and hearing us scream. She said she wanted to slice up our wings until they were completely covered in bandages,”_** he whispered, tucking his wings close to his back and sidling up to his father. **_“Then she said that we smell nice and once you took your eyes off us, she was going to drag us into the bathroom and make us present to her and she was going to hold us down as she-”_** he cut himself off as he choked out a sob and Dean growled before he could stop himself.

Castiel held Samandriel to his side and curled a protective wing around him as the young angel cried into his shirt. Dean scowled and slipped an arm around Castiel’s waist without thinking and the angel stiffened at first but quickly leaned into him as though it was exactly where he wanted to be.

“She ain’t laying a finger on either of you,” Dean growled. “And if she even tries, I’ll break her freakin’ wings and toss her out of the highest window I can find.” He squeezed Castiel gently. No one threatened his angels and got away with it.

They reached the car and both angels slid into the backseat, cuddling close as Dean reversed onto the road. Dean eyed them through the mirror and the longer he watched them cling to each other, the more worked-up he became over the idea of the demon threatening the angels in a public space that was supposed to be safe for them. And the things she had threatened them with… Dean was impressed that Castiel had managed to walk away because he certainly wouldn’t have without breaking a few teeth or, more accurately, fangs.

His thoughts festered and danced in circles around his mind until finally, Samandriel piped up.

**_“Are you alright, Dean?”_ **

Dean blinked and forced his anger to a low simmer, his scent fading with it. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Are you?”

Samandriel shrugged a shoulder. The he stared at Dean nervously, lips parted as if to say something but hesitant to actually speak.

 ** _“Thanks for taking care of my dad,”_** he said eventually. And then, a little more hurriedly and with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “ ** _He really liked you petting his wings.”_**

Castiel tensed and frowned down at Samandriel, betrayed, but Dean felt a smile creeping across his own features. “Yeah?”

“He thinks you’re a good cuddler.”

Dean blinked at the sudden switch in language but when the words sunk in, his cheeks tinged pink and he coughed awkwardly.

“We didn’t… uh… It wasn’t…” he trailed off and watched in fascination as Castiel’s halo burned a bright cherry red.

“Whatever it was, he liked it,” grinned Samandriel, even as his father glared at him. “He thinks that for a human, you’re pretty good at grooming.”

Dean tilted his head in a way he was positive he was learning from Castiel. “Grooming?”

“Angels do it when they…” Samandriel wrinkled his nose, not knowing enough English to complete the sentence. **_“Angels groom one another’s wings to bond. It’s how they show their friendship or family relationships. It feels really nice and relaxing and Dad would probably love to show you how to do it properly.”_**

Castiel looked as though he wanted the seat to absorb him. His face was red and his eyes were wide in mortification and Samandriel appeared extremely pleased with the reaction.

“I… I don’t think your dad wants me to… to _groom_ him. He’s been hurt so much by alphas and I don’t think he wants another alpha touching his wings-”

 ** _“But you’re not just another alpha,”_** frowned Samandriel. **_“You’re the alpha who takes care of us and you don’t treat Dad like a monster. You’re good and kind and you do nice things for us and… and we’re safe with you, right?”_** He stared at Dean through the mirror with big, round eyes and an innocent head tilt and Dean felt his throat tighten and his mouth go dry.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Yeah… you’re safe with me.” He focused on the road, knuckles white around the wheel. “You’ll always be safe with me.”

Samandriel smiled, pleased and fluttered his wings a little. **_“If Dad doesn’t teach you how to groom, I will.”_**

Dean’s heart melted into a puddle somewhere near the brake pedal. “I’d like that.”

Samandriel grinned, incident with the demon forgotten. “…Can we stop for ice cream?”

Dean barked out a laugh and Castiel smiled along with him, ruffling his son’s hair affectionately.

A few minutes later they pulled up at a Walmart and returned to the car with a tub of chocolate ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Hope you enjoyed a bit of a fluffier chapter!


	11. A Sob Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at bottom

_Castiel liked Balthazar and Gadreel._

_He enjoyed their company and the way they never made him feel left out whenever he was sent on a job with one or both of them. He enjoyed the stories Balthazar told of his shenanigans and he enjoyed the way Gadreel squeezed his shoulder and sent him a small smile after a job well-done, as though quietly proud and grateful. Balthazar made him laugh and Gadreel made him feel appreciated and Castiel’s work day got that little bit brighter whenever he saw either of them._

_He had never had true friends as an adult, but he was fairly certain that Balthazar and Gadreel were en route to change that. In all his years, he would never have expected an alpha and a beta to become his best friends._

_There was the sound of squeaky wheels and then a head dropped onto his shoulder. Castiel grinned at his monitor._

_“I hate paperwork,” Balthazar whispered after two solid minutes of watching Castiel fill out electronic forms._

_“So do I,” admitted Castiel, just as quietly as the clicking of keyboards became a jarring rhythm around them._

_“Up for a party on Saturday?” asked Balthazar. “It’s Gadreel’s birthday and I’m planning on making it rodeo-themed. I’m going to get him riding a kigra.”_

_A kigra was a shaggy beast approximately the same size as a moose on steroids. It came equipped with claws and spines at the end of its tail and its mouth, whilst suited to a herbivorous diet, bore four enormous fangs to help it fight off any predators that were stupid enough to attack it. Its face was long and its head was adorned with a crown of tiny black horns that contrasted its brown and white wool. Its wool was known as the softest and most versatile clothing material in the Silver City. It was also believed to be one of the most aggressive herbivores alive and its favourite method of attack was stabbing everything with its spiny tail and then standing on its victim with a sharp claw._

_Naturally, the ‘bravest’ of angels made a sport out of trying to ride them._

_“I will staple you to a tree,” said Gadreel deadpan, wholly focused on his computer._

_Balthazar snickered and winked at Castiel and the omega chuckled and wondered if Balthazar really had found a wild kigra somewhere. He wouldn’t put it past the mischievous beta._

_A wing slung around his shoulders casually and Castiel smiled at his friend. He liked how tactile Balthazar was. Usually, alphas and betas who touched him wanted either to prove their authority over him or were attempting to cajole him into sleeping with them. Balthazar touched him because he wanted Castiel to feel included and because he genuinely didn’t care about personal space._

_“So, you up for Saturday, Trench coat?”_

_Castiel glanced towards the beige coat he had draped over the coat stand that morning. It was brand new since his old jacket had died a fiery death in their last case. His team hadn’t yet stopped teasing him for looking like a tax accountant._

_“Of course,” he said warmly and Balthazar’s face lit up as Gadreel flicked his gaze up to Castiel in acknowledgement._

_“Don’t tell Gadreel about the party though,” whispered Balthazar, just loud enough for the entire room to hear. “It’s a secret.”_

_Castiel snorted then crossed his heart with a finger whilst holding his other hand up. Pleased, Balthazar rolled his swivel chair back to his own desk and placed a finger over his lips with a secretive glance at the omega._

_“I’ve mated an idiot,” sighed Gadreel under his breath._

_“The only reason it’s a secret, dear,” drawled Balthazar as he scanned through his next form, “is because whilst the party is in celebration of your birthday… you’re not actually invited.”_

_“That’s not very nice,” muttered Gadreel, eyes glued to his screen._

_Balthazar chuckled and Anna cleared her throat. “Boys, do you plan on doing any work today or are you spending the weekend in here?”_

_“Sorry, boss. Gadreel, stop distracting me,” said Balthazar cheerily._

_Castiel’s lips quirked into a smile and Hannah giggled in front of him._

_Ten minutes later, the door swung open to reveal a smartly-dressed Naomi, her charcoal suit shining beneath the lights. Anna glanced up at her in query and the older angel stepped into the office._

_“I have a demon in room thirteen – part of the museum bombing case. I need someone in there with her. I want to know what they were looking for in the museum, how many people were involved and where the next attack is. I also want to know how they organise these attacks and if there are any angels helping them.” Naomi cocked an eyebrow. “I assume your team is free for now?”_

_Anna nodded. “Castiel, Hannah; room thirteen.”_

_Hannah stood immediately and Castiel watched her blue and grey wings flutter after being held in the same position for so long. A smile touched his lips as he gazed at her pretty feathers._

_She turned to him with sparkling eyes and shrugged her shoulders shyly and he caught himself staring at her shiny, pink lip gloss. He rose to his feet as she flicked her glossy hair off her shoulder and he managed to stumble over the base of his chair before righting himself and flinching at her giggle._

_“So, an interrogation…” hummed Hannah as they exited the office. “Do you want to be good investigator or bad investigator?” She smirked slyly._

_Castiel chuckled. “Something tells me you want to be bad investigator.”_

_Hannah smirked and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Maybe,” she hummed._

_Castiel grinned as they continued their journey towards room thirteen. He didn’t mind interrogations all that much. He tended to abstain from physical violence but he didn’t shy away from it when he was confronting a particularly difficult demon and it was absolutely necessary to gain intelligence from them. They were only demons, anyway – the filthy abominations deserved everything they got after all the innocents they slaughtered._

_Hannah was possibly even more determined to punish the demons than he was. She held no love whatsoever for the black-eyed beasts and she had broken more than a few fingers in her time in pursuit of information. Anyone who said that violence wasn’t the answer to gaining knowledge had clearly never conversed with a demon before._

_With a plan in their minds and questions on the tip of their tongues, Hannah and Castiel entered the interrogation room together._

*             *             *

 

“ _’One can never have enough socks,’ said Dumbledore. ‘Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn’t get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.’_ ”

Samandriel grinned as he read the words aloud, changing the inflection of his voice as he spoke Dumbledore’s lines to make himself sound like a frail old man with an overstated English accent, rather than a cheeky ten-year-old from another planet.

The boy’s English had rapidly improved since Dean had first begun teaching him and a proud smile crept across the alpha’s face as he listened to Samandriel read. He caught sight of the first page of the book, where the words _‘This book belongs to Sam Winchester’_ lay etched in their mother’s elegant cursive, and Dean had a flashback to the days when his mom would sit beside his little brother on the couch, listening to Sam fly through books quicker than Dean ever could. They were good memories and his gaze softened slightly before his heart began to ache.

He missed her so much.

He quietly shook himself out of the memories and focused on Samandriel instead, listening to the slightly-off pronunciations and correcting him where necessary or answering the questions relating to definitions of the more challenging words.

He briefly wondered how Castiel was faring with cleaning out Hera’s stable, but forced himself not to dwell on it for too long. Last time he had hovered around the omega, checking that he wasn’t overexerting himself or in danger of stabbing himself with a blunt shovel, and Castiel had resorted to chasing him back into the house with a scrunched nose and an overly-dramatic eye-roll.

The phone rang, startling Dean out of his idle musings, but he didn’t feel much like moving so he waited on the couch and let it roll into the answering machine. Samandriel glanced up at him curiously, but Dean gestured for him to continue reading, and so he did.

_‘Dean? It’s Darius.’_

Dean stiffened, his knuckles turning white around the edge of his seat.

_‘Lisa wanted me to call to let you know that we’re getting married on the twenty-eighth at two-thirty. She wants to invite you to the wedding, against my better judgement. Says she doesn’t like how things ended between you and this is an olive branch or some crap. I told her to forget about you, but she’s insisting. Anyway, I don’t expect you’ll come and frankly, I don’t want you to, but she told me to call and she’s watching from the kitchen even though she can’t hear what I’m saying. Thought I’d better do what she wants. Honestly, it’s probably best you stay home. She’s only inviting you because she feels guilty. I don’t though. You never deserved her anyway. You have way too many mommy and daddy issues and you wanted to make her live on a filthy, decrepit farm. Like she would ever be happy with you. Right, that’s all I wanted to say. If you’re coming, don’t forget to bring a gift. Maybe something for the baby since Lis is pregnant.’_

The answering machine clicked as Darius put the phone down and Dean’s fingers clenched around the sofa cushion, his teeth grinding together as he glowered angrily at the coffee table.

Lisa had invited him to her wedding? A wedding with the man she had cheated on him with? Together for six years, engaged for two of those, cheated on for four months before he found them both writhing around his bed, and she honestly thought it was appropriate to send him a wedding invitation – and ask him for a gift, no less?

Was she intentionally trying to humiliate him?

His cheeks burned and his eyes prickled. His fingers ached from squeezing the couch so tightly.

The pain of seeing them together came flooding back to him. Sweaty and naked and skin flushed from exertion, their expressions of surprise flashed in his mind and he recalled dropping his house keys in shock; their metallic jangle shattering the silence of the room as they crashed into the floor. He remembered his jaw working and no sounds coming out, feeling betrayed and utterly wrecked as he came to terms with the sight before him. He remembered Lisa trying to placate him with empty endearments as she scrambled for clothes that had been flung carelessly beside the bed. He recalled Darius, all tanned skin and designer hair and broad shoulders, eying Dean with polite disinterest and making no move to leave the bed now that he had been caught.

He remembered throwing both of them out of the house that same afternoon. Remembered breaking pictures of him and Lisa in his fury. Remembered screaming at her when she tried to call him that night. Remembered drinking every last drop of alcohol that he could find in the house. After that, he didn’t remember much of anything.

She obviously wanted him to be more miserable than he already was without her.

And Lisa being pregnant? The icing on the cake. They had discussed children back when they were engaged and Dean had been all for the idea, but Lisa had wanted to wait, stating she wasn’t ready and wasn’t entirely convinced she even wanted children. She had been with Darius for one year and already they were getting married and she was with child.

It stung, like the way a spear through the heart stung.

Small fingers touched his wrist and Dean turned to Samandriel with glassy eyes and watched a slew of emotions play across the omega’s face. He drew his hand away from the angel’s touch, feeling even more ashamed at the idea of Samandriel seeing his memories and feeling the hurt associated with them, and he made to stand, or pace or maybe scream in frustration, but Samandriel latched onto his middle with a soft growl.

Fascinated, Dean watch the angel’s halo darken to black as his little wings puffed out like an indignant bird.

“You deserve better,” Samandriel whispered sincerely, in perfect English and that’s all it took for Dean to completely lose it.

Angry tears streaked down his cheeks and he choked out a few uneven breaths as his hands sought out white, peppered feathers. He stroked them to ground himself and Samandriel didn’t flinch or whimper – instead, he crawled onto Dean’s lap and hugged the alpha tighter, wrapping his wings around the human as best he could. Dean curled over him, sobbing into his neck and muttering bitter words.

“In my bed,” he growled quietly. “In my own bed. I hope they divorce. I hope they hate each other by the end of it. I hope he cheats. I want her to understand what she did.” His voice tapered off into a defeated sob and he clutched Samandriel tighter, feeling immediately guilty at subjecting the young angel to his unkind words.

However, Samandriel plucked one of Dean’s hands from his wings and squeezed it in his own, looking up at the alpha patiently, and Dean saw his own anger and spite and bitterness reflected in the omega’s gaze, as well as hints of protectiveness and endless sympathy.

Dean’s breath hitched and he hugged the little angel closer, sharing his memories and feelings as best he could. The pain and distress and loneliness of the past year began to melt away as he shared his thoughts with Samandriel and for the first time in a long while, he felt like he didn’t have to face everything alone.

They clung to each other as Dean’s memories rattled through their brains and Dean pressed his nose into Samandriel’s neck, basking in the sweet scent of pears and cinnamon and the gentle hint of rainforests after a storm. He scented and nosed at the omega’s soft skin, rumbling lightly in approval when Samandriel cuddled into him and curled his wings tighter around them both.

Samandriel’s warmth was a huge comfort and his scent helped him through the heart-wrenching memories of his fiancé’s betrayal. However, the thing that dried his tears was Samandriel’s tight grip on his hand, squeezing whenever Dean’s emotions boiled over, such as when he recalled the way Lisa had accused him of flirting with other girls and making her feel betrayed and used.

He didn’t deny that he had flirted, but he would never act upon it because he had never felt about any other woman the way he had about Lisa. Flirting was as much a part of his personality as looking out for Sam was, but the words were empty and meaningless – he loved only Lisa and he hadn’t realised it bothered her that much.

“She cheated,” whispered Samandriel, “not you. She knew she was wrong.”

Dean toyed with the feathers of a wing and nuzzled Samandriel’s neck, grateful for his son’s support. Then, he startled at the slip and rushed to correct himself, but Samandriel had already caught it and he flinched but didn’t pull away.

“You’ve wanted fledglings for a long time,” whispered Samandriel sadly and Dean nodded hesitantly.

Samandriel said nothing more but he did lace their hands together properly as he let Dean’s thoughts flow between them.

“Thank you,” Dean mumbled embarrassedly after a few minutes, once his anger had simmered down and he was left with the realisation that he had projected all his frustrations and pain onto a ten-year-old boy who had suffered more abuse than Dean could even dream of.

Samandriel shrugged, like all children do when they don’t understand how amazing they are.

“She was horrible to you and you can do way better.” He wrinkled his nose. “And Darius is a little bitch.”

Dean choked something between a shocked gasp and a snort of laughter.

“You can’t say stuff like that!” he admonished despite the smile he was holding back. “It’s a very rude word. Where did you even learn language like that?”

Samandriel blinked up at him. “You.”

Dean frowned. “Son of a bitch,” he huffed before his eyes widened in realisation and he clamped his mouth shut as Samandriel grinned.

“Yeah, well,” Dean grumbled, clutching at straws. “You’re not allowed to say stuff like that until you’re sixteen. Or older. Imagine what your dad would think. He’d be so _pissed_.”

He slapped a hand over his mouth again and closed his eyes in resignation as Samandriel barked out a laugh.

“Just… don’t say those words, okay? Do as I say and not as I do,” grumped Dean and Samandriel grinned with far too many teeth and a suspicious-looking twinkle in his eyes.

Dean walked over to the answering machine and stabbed the delete button before gesturing to the kitchen.

“Come on, let’s get a drink.”

He smiled when Samandriel grabbed his hand and he squeezed it gently in appreciation.

 

*             *             *            

 

Dean bolted upright at the scream that tore through the house.

He was outside his bedroom by the time the second scream pierced the air and he crashed into the angels’ room before it had even ended, alarm clock clutched between his fingers after he had blindly grabbed it in search of a viable weapon.

Castiel flared his wings in a rushed panic, sweeping everything off the bedside table as he stared up at Dean with wide eyes, not entirely registering who was standing before him. Then Dean’s face must have sunk in because Castiel quickly ignored him in favour of trying to wake the screaming and shaking Samandriel from his nightmare-fuelled slumber.

Dean dropped the clock and raced to Samandriel’s side, pulling the hair that was slicked with sweat from his face with a gentle brush of fingers. He vaguely saw Castiel stiffen and he heard wings thump the mattress in warning, but he shoved the threat to one side and focused all his attention on the twitching Samandriel and the fat tears staining his cheeks.

The boy reeked of fear and Dean whined quietly and stroked a wing in reassurance.

Immediately, Samandriel cried out in terror and contorted his body away from the petting and Dean heard the slamming of Castiel’s wings a little more clearly, but he refused to let it deter him.

“Samandriel,” he breathed, stroking the boy’s hair instead. “Samandriel, wake up. You’re safe. It’s okay.”

The young angel cried harder and thrashed violently from side to side, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

 ** _“Samandriel,”_** whined Dean in Enochian. **_“Samandriel, it’s me. It’s Dean. You’re safe. I promise, you’re safe.”_**

There was a moment where Samandriel’s frightened wails stopped and Dean was suddenly aware of the way Castiel was looming over him, wings outstretched in a threatening display and halo flickering between black and a blinding white, which, along with Samandriel’s bright white halo, illuminated the entire bed. The older omega kneeled over Dean like an ancient God of death, his face obscured by dancing shadows and his dark wings barely visible amongst the blackness of the room. Dean could just make out the outlines of clenched fists.

Samandriel let out an abrupt howl and Dean didn’t stop to think as he collected the young angel into his arms and cooed sweet promises into his ear, rubbing his back comfortingly.

A couple of seconds later, Samandriel’s eyes flew open and they burned blue with crippling fear as he stared at Dean’s face.

 ** _“Alpha!”_** he wailed and it took a moment for Dean to register his own overpowering scent, dripping with fear and protectiveness and probably suffocating to both omegas. Samandriel clawed at his cheek in a rendition of the day they first met, his whole body trembling and Dean hissed in pain, accidentally revealing pearly teeth in a grimace.

He had no time to register Castiel’s powerful wing beat and when he next opened his eyes, he was slumped against a wall, Castiel towering over him with wings curled forwards into an offensive position and bright blue eyes. Dean imagined he would be snarling if his larynx was working.

There was a pause and a lamp flipped on somewhere.

“…Dean?”

Samandriel’s voice sounded breathy and fear lingered within his eyes, but his gaze was less clouded and he seemed uncertain as to what had happened.

Above Dean, Castiel’s wings lowered and his irises faded to their natural colour and he, too, frowned at Dean, seemingly puzzled as to why the alpha was on the floor.

Dean himself wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but he raised a hand to his cheek and his fingertips came back red and shiny with his own blood. His stomach ached as well, and the pain slithered up his chest and bloomed there too.

“You were having a nightmare,” Dean murmured, coughing a little.

Samandriel frowned and his gaze caught on Dean’s bloodied cheek. He paled, eyes widening in horror as he pointed to his own cheek. “Did I…?”

Dean pulled a face and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said and he tried to clamber to his feet only to collapse onto the floor again as his back and head began to throb. He groaned quietly.

“Dean!” squeaked Samandriel, hopping off the bed and rushing to the alpha’s side as Castiel backed away with a stunned expression, looking to his wings as though only just remembering that he had hurled Dean into the wall. He cast his gaze to Dean with a pained expression and the alpha shook his head again, wondering how he could have ever thought of Castiel as anything less than good and gentle in this warm yellow light.

“I’m okay,” Dean dismissed when Samandriel latched onto his pyjamas. “How are you?” he asked, with far more concern.

Samandriel’s face crumpled for a second before he shook his head and wriggled into Dean’s side. The alpha curled an arm around him securely and Samandriel used the cuff of his own pyjamas to clean the blood from Dean’s cheek.

“I’m sorry,” the little omega whimpered and Dean merely squeezed him tighter and brushed his hair from his sweaty face.

“Doesn’t matter,” murmured Dean. “Now, wanna tell me what had you screaming in your sleep?”

Unshed tears glistened in Samandriel’s gaze and he leaned into the alpha as he inhaled a shuddering breath.

“Azazel,” whispered Samandriel and above them, Castiel went rigid.

Dean scowled and carefully smoothed Samandriel’s ruffled feathers, desperate to offer any form of comfort he could after the young omega’s haunting cries. Thankfully, Samandriel melted into the touch this time and he closed his eyes, allowing Dean to fuss over him like a mother hen.

“Who’s this Azazel dude?”

Samandriel shuddered involuntarily at the name and Castiel meandered to his son’s free side and lowered himself into the space. He carded his fingers through the wing that Dean wasn’t tending to.

 ** _“Demon,”_** said Samandriel, voice barely a whisper as he slipped back into his mother tongue. **_“An alpha demon. He visited us a lot when we were with Ketch.”_**

Dean knew that he wasn’t going to like the next ten minutes very much.

 ** _“Dad calls him a sadist. Says that’s what you call someone who likes to hurt other people. He used to hit Dad whenever he came to visit. Used to bite him and tie him up and stuff,”_** mumbled Samandriel. His cheeks burned as he hid his face in Dean’s shoulder. **_“He usually just made me watch, but there were some days…”_** He trailed off; whole body wracked with a shudder.

Dean scowled and squeezed the boy gently.

 ** _“This one day, he tied Dad to the bed,”_** continued Samandriel hoarsely, **_“and he started whipping him and hurting him and it was horrible. I begged him to stop but I couldn’t do anything because if I interfered, Azazel would just chain me up and hit Dad more. Sometimes, Ketch would punish us both once the clients were gone, so I learned pretty early on that I wasn’t allowed to stop anyone from… ‘playing’ with Dad.”_** He scrunched his nose at the word ‘playing’, as though it was a word that had been used multiple times to describe what clients did with his father.

Dean had to bite back a growl and he carded his fingers through Samandriel’s wing to ground himself. Samandriel wriggled against him, revealing his face a little more as he sought out Dean’s warm touch.

 ** _“But this day, I must have been crying more than usual or something, because Azazel got this weird look in his eyes and he slid off the bed. I thought he was going to beat me up, but he just told me to come to him in this really creepy, soft voice,”_** Samandriel murmured. **_“And I didn’t want him to hurt Dad so I did. He started stroking my cheek and it was awful because he smelled so bad, like he’d been drinking or something. Then he started petting my hair and brushing his thumb over my mouth and wiping my tears away. It was really weird and Dad was glaring at him from the bed and trying to break free of all the ropes. It was after he stopped speaking but he kept opening his mouth as if he was trying to scream and I knew there was something wrong but Azazel wasn’t hurting Dad, so I thought it was better to let him focus on me, right?”_**

He looked up at Dean with wide, teary eyes, searching for confirmation and from the corner of his gaze, Dean caught Castiel grinding his teeth with barely-restrained anger, his wings twitching violently as his halo turned blacker than the shadows at the edges of the room.

Dean could feel his own fury rising and he managed a weak smile of reassurance, brushing Samandriel’s hair from his face merely to occupy his hands.

**_“He started stroking my wings and after a few minutes, he took my shirt off. He didn’t take his own clothes off or anything, he just took my shirt off. He touched my chest and stomach and he ran a finger down my spine and I didn’t like it but I stopped crying because he wasn’t hurting Dad anymore and I never liked crying in front of the… customers.”_ **

Samandriel scowled in confusion, wings flicking in distress. **_“But when I stopped crying, he hit me across the face really hard and I couldn’t help it – it really hurt and I started crying again. He suddenly went back to being gentle again and I don’t understand why he was gentle with me sometimes and other times, he hit me. He kept doing it for ages before he pulled my pants off and my underwear. I remember Dad looking really angry but Azazel didn’t do anything, he just sort of… watched me.”_**

Dean was impressed at his own self-control. He was doing all he could to keep his scent from turning into a thick, putrid stench of outrage and murder and the effort made him tremble and sweat. He wanted nothing more than to gather the young angel into his arms and nuzzle into him and mark him as his own, and he had to swallow down the deep, threatening rumbles clawing their way out of his chest, warning the world to keep its hands off his little angel.

Castiel looked no better. His eyes glowed a dim blue and his breaths shook with the intensity of his fury. The hand that wasn’t smoothing over Samandriel’s wing clenched and unclenched around his own thigh and if Dean listened closely, he could hear the older angel’s teeth grating against one another.

The distress from both omegas flooded the room, making the air sour and bitter all at once and Dean had to breathe through his mouth to stop himself from reacting.

 ** _“He sat on the floor and put me on his lap,”_** whispered Samandriel. **_“He started kissing my neck and leaving little bite marks on my shoulders and then, he pushed a finger into my oil gland.”_** Tears streaked down Samandriel’s face and his wings began to shake. **_“It hurt so much. I screamed and he smiled and forced two fingers in and it_ burned _. He kept pushing them in and out and it felt like he’d set fire to my wings. The more I cried, the faster he went and when I tried to get away, he pinned me to the floor and pressed harder.”_**

Samandriel was openly crying and he clutched Dean’s shirt as he hid his face in his shoulder. **_“I think he was trying to get my oil but it hurt so much and I couldn’t make any. He made them bleed…”_**

A snarl was ripped from Dean’s throat and Samandriel startled and reared backwards, eyes blowing wide in momentary fear, but Dean tugged the angel onto his lap and held him close, reordering his feathers and nuzzling into his hair as he mumbled quiet promises beside his ear, **_“He’ll never touch you again. None of them will. I won’t let them. I’ll never let them hurt you.”_**

Samandriel’s lip wobbled and he shoved his head under Dean’s chin and sobbed, clinging to his shirt desperately. Dean slid a hand up and down his back, rumbling and nuzzling and doing all the things he used to do to reassure Sam when he was upset. Granted, Sam had never been through anything like what Samandriel had faced in his short, miserable lifetime and Dean had never felt quite this enraged before, but the principle was the same and Samandriel reacted in a similar manner – snuggling closer and scenting at his neck before curling his wings around Dean until they were cocooned together (a feat that young Sam had often achieved using an array of blankets and cushions).

As Dean cuddled Samandriel close and the angel’s tears dried up, it occurred to the alpha that Castiel hadn’t removed his son from his lap, so he slid his gaze to the older omega and found Castiel staring at them both, head tipped slightly to one side almost in fascination and wings oddly relaxed. When he realised Dean had caught him staring, he straightened and blinked at the alpha, but made no move to retrieve his son.

Stroking Samandriel’s wings comfortingly, Dean cocked an eyebrow at the older angel and after a moment, Castiel offered him a small smile, which made Dean’s other eyebrow shoot to his hairline.

Samandriel quieted and settled into Dean’s chest, closing his eyes at the alpha’s rhythmic petting and Castiel’s smile grew a little warmer. Dean found himself slowly returning the expression.

After ten minutes or so, Dean glanced at the clock and pulled a face at the time. _4:23 A.M._

 ** _“Let’s get you back into bed,”_** whispered Dean as he rose to his feet and picked up the little angel. Samandriel yawned and curled his wings around Dean more securely.

Dean deposited Samandriel on the mattress and tucked the covers around him, but when he made to step back, Samandriel’s hand shot out and gripped his arm almost frantically.

 ** _“Stay,”_** he begged, voice hushed.

Dean felt his heart crack and he briefly entertained an image of walking up to this Azazel guy and using the discarded alarm clock to break each and every one of his fingers. Instead of following through with his incredibly satisfying plan, he found his jaw working open and closed with half-formed replies to Samandriel’s request, before he swivelled his head to stare helplessly at Castiel.

Castiel, who had already risen to his feet and was rounding the other side of the bed, paused to blink placidly at Dean before tilting his head again.

Dean licked his lips and glanced down at the young angel’s fearful gaze and quickly realised there was no chance of him finding the willpower to leave the room. He quirked his lips at Samandriel and kneeled beside the bed, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately.

However, Samandriel wasn’t pleased with the arrangement and he scooted closer to his father, leaving a Dean-sized space on his right side.

Dean stared with wide eyes and cast his gaze to Castiel again, and the older angel eyed Dean sharply, one arm slipping around Samandriel protectively as he settled into bed. Apparently, Castiel wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of Dean rubbing his scent over the bed covers.

Dean grimaced and shook his head at Samandriel apologetically and when the boy gazed up at him like a kicked puppy, he felt the need to explain.

 ** _“It’s not… Your dad, he… You can’t…”_**  He scowled and tried again. **_“I’m an alpha and if I lie next to you, my scent is going to be all over the bed and you might think it’s a good idea now, but what if it gives you nightmares tomorrow? Or you don’t feel safe? What if you wake up in the night and think I’m trying to hurt you? What if I give your dad nightmares? What if-”_**

 ** _“Dean, please,”_** whispered Samandriel, hand reaching out to lay over Dean’s arm. 

 ** _“I don’t want to scare either of you,”_** Dean confessed quietly, carding his fingers through Samandriel’s soft hair. Samandriel leaned into his touch and Dean watched Castiel’s scowl fade as he loosened his protective hold on his son.

“You’re a good alpha,” said Samandriel in English. “You won’t hurt us.”

Dean flicked his gaze to Castiel and the older angel stared at him wearily before closing his eyes and shuffling over a bit more with Samandriel nestled against his chest.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise and slowly slipped into bed with them. A grin touched his lips when Samandriel slung a wing over him, and he gently slid an arm around the young omega, being careful not to accidentally brush Castiel and convince him to boot him out of bed.

Which was why it was such a shock when Castiel curled a heavy wing around all three of them.

Samandriel beamed and closed his eyes, tugging on Dean’s arm insistently until the alpha got the hint and shuffled closer.

“Night,” he hummed against Dean’s chest.

Dean watched as Castiel nuzzled into his son’s hair and his mouth dried as both angels began to drift into a peaceful sleep.

The room smelled sweet. Omegas only smelled sweet when they were happy or at the very least, content and all Dean could smell was pears and cinnamon and French vanilla and maybe a hint of mandarin. All the lingering scents of his anger and frustration were being overpowered by the omegas’ sweet contentment and Dean couldn’t take his eyes off the angels and the gentle rises and falls of their chests.

Not only had they allowed him into their bed; they had fallen asleep beside him and Dean’s throat tightened at the amount of trust they had placed in him.

He scented the air again, inhaling deep lungfuls of their contentedness and a wave of desire to protect washed over him as he caught sight of the fresh bandages on their wings. He was seized by an overwhelming warmth as he looked over both angels and he was almost certain that he had just spewed a heap of alpha pheromones into the air – a dizzying combination of protectiveness and possessiveness and warning and comfort and affection. He was nearly embarrassed at himself but in the end, he found he didn’t care and the arm he had strewn over Samandriel eventually slithered over Castiel too.

An ocean-blue eye cracked open to stare at him and Dean froze like a deer caught in headlights, but when the angel made no move to throw him into another wall, Dean slowly began massaging the humerus of a wing and the appendage shifted into his touch.

Castiel stared at him a moment longer, eye twinkling in the dim lamp light, and Dean squeezed his wing gently in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. Finally, Castiel’s eye slid shut again and Dean’s heart swelled with emotion as a black wing curled around him more securely.

As he watched Castiel’s breaths even out, his mind wandered to Lisa. He had always considered himself happy when he slept beside her and he had occasionally indulged in observing her features as she slept. Maybe that made him creepy, but he had loved her and she had never protested the few times she had caught him. He had always felt peaceful in those times.

Watching Castiel and Samandriel sleep was something else entirely. There were feeling involved that he had never even experienced.

They trusted him and Dean thought he understood trust but this was something completely new and exciting. There was a certain kind of respect between them too – not the kind of respect that Ketch had demanded from the angels or even the kind that Victor required from Dean – this respect was woven with threads of hope and kindness and affection and trust and a sort of fear that Dean dearly hoped he could destroy within the next seven years. The idea of the angels being frightened of him pained him to his very core and made his heart ache in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

Lisa’s betrayal had burned him, violent yet brief, but the fear he had seen in both angels’ eyes when he had entered the room to Samandriel’s screams made him want to crawl on his knees and beg for their forgiveness. He wanted to shower them with reassurances and promises and their expressions seared themselves permanently into his mind; sweeping down to his heart and sloshing around in his stomach until he felt nauseas at the thought of what they had suffered to make them so terrified.

He longed to heal them and comfort them and prove that he could be there for them when they needed him and even when they didn’t. He yearned to help them and turn their halos gold with joy. He ached to show them all the good things in the world; all the delicious food and the beautiful sights and the exciting adventures that Earth had to offer.

He thought about his time with Lisa and how he had never felt any of those things before meeting his angels. He stared at the sleeping omegas and knew he had never before felt such a strong desire to protect as he did in that moment. His heart had never ached when he and Lisa argued the way it did when Castiel and Samandriel’s halos glowed white with fear. He had never scented the air so deeply and felt so warm at Lisa’s sleepy contentment.

He swallowed thickly and observed the angels he was beginning to think of as his. He knew it was wrong – they weren’t a family and neither angel was his property. Still, he couldn’t help it. They had come so far together; further than the hostel had managed and Dean privately liked to think that they had come further than any rehabilitation centre or mental hospital ever could. They were his angels and it was his responsibility to heal them – just like Samandriel had helped to heal him two days ago when he had broken down over a single phone call.

“I’ll get you guys better,” Dean whispered so quietly that he barely made a sound. “I promise.”

He flicked the lamp off and settled down, curling around Samandriel and snaking an arm around Castiel’s waist.

He smiled as their scents grew sweeter.

 

*             *             *

 

As it turned out, Castiel was a cuddly grump in the morning and he very much did not like the hours before nine o’clock.

Conveniently, this suited Dean perfectly because his brother was the crazy one who went on morning jogs and Dean’s idea of exercise was watching the toast enthusiastically jump out of the toaster. He was an alpha who took great pleasure in his lazy weekend lie-ins and waking up to two very soft and snuggly angels was on his secret list of ‘Things I Think Are Better Than Pie’.

So, he tugged Samandriel closer and revelled in his happy purr, and then he raked lazy fingers through any part of Castiel’s wings that he could reach and huffed a laugh when the angel grabbed his hand and moved it to the specific area he wanted to be petted.

Samandriel, having obviously received Castiel’s genes for his tolerance of mornings, tucked his head under Dean’s chin to hide from the light seeping through the curtains.

“Make it go away,” grumbled Samandriel, words muffled by Dean’s shirt.

“Make what go away?” asked Dean as he used his spare hand to play with Samandriel’s wings.

“The sun,” grumbled Samandriel. “Tell it to go screw itself.”

There was a light _thwack_ and Dean grinned, not needing to open his eyes to know that Castiel had just slapped a wing against his son’s shoulder in reprimand.

“Learned it from Dean,” huffed Samandriel and Dean managed to crack open an eye before the same dark wing slapped his shoulder too.

“ _Ow_ ,” complained Dean. “Why do you always tell your dad that I teach you the rude stuff?”

“If you don’t want me to repeat it, don’t say it,” grumbled Samandriel. “Everyone knows that children learn by example.”

Dean bit back a laugh at the oddly mature tone and complex English. “I don’t use any rude words when I’m talking to you.”

**_“Yeah, but I don’t magically go deaf when you talk to your buddies on the phone.”_ **

Dean’s jaw hung open and an amused smile touched Castiel’s lips despite his eyes being firmly shut.

“Screw you,” Dean eventually said and he received another smack, courtesy of Castiel as Samandriel snickered against his chest.

 ** _“You smell good,”_** said Samandriel after a little while and Dean smiled and closed his eyes as he held the angel close.

“Oh?”

 ** _“Like cedarwood and leather and the smell of the fresh bread you get from the bakery,”_** murmured Samandriel, scenting unashamedly at Dean’s neck. **_“It’s very nice.”_**

Warmth flared in Dean’s chest and he hummed because it felt like an appropriate thing to do when he was this happy.

Samandriel wriggled out from under his chin and placed a hand on Dean’s cheek, eyebrows pinching together in a frown.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” he said quietly, with lightly-accented English.

Dean made a sound halfway between a groan and a grunt and plucked Samandriel’s hand from his cheek, projecting his thoughts of how little he actually cared about the new scratches. Samandriel responded with something between a huff and a whine and Dean ended up wrapping both arms around him and trapping him against his chest to stop the young omega from apologising.

“Jerk,” grumbled Samandriel as he made no attempts whatsoever to escape Dean’s poorly-hidden cuddle.

“Bitch,” replied Dean automatically and he braced for a slap upon realising his curse but when none came, he forced an eye open and frowned in confusion at the two identical expressions of betrayal his angels were sporting.

“What?” he asked as Samandriel shoved at him in a desperate attempt to free himself. Dean opened his arms and felt a twinge of pain in his heart when both Samandriel and Castiel sat up and shifted away from him to the farthest reaches of the bed.

Copying their movements, Dean sat up and frowned deeply. “What?” he repeated.

“ _’Bitch’_?” asked Samandriel quietly, face crumpling in hurt.

Dean couldn’t understand why both angels looked so offended but after a moment, the lightbulb flipped on and Dean’s eyes widened in horror.

“Oh, no that’s… I don’t mean it like that. It’s just a thing I do with Sam. He calls me a jerk and I call him a bitch. I don’t… It’s not because you’re an omega, I promise. Me and Sam… We’ve said it ever since we were little kids.”

Both angels relaxed and slowly returned to Dean’s side. It took them some time to settle down and Dean massaged their wings and soothed ruffled feathers to calm them.

“I’m sorry,” Dean murmured sincerely. “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

Samandriel shook his head and Castiel carefully curled a wing around them all once more.

“Some clients used to call Dad a ‘good bitch’ when they were… playing,” mumbled Samandriel and anger surged through Dean again as he subtly pulled both angels closer and stroked their backs. He could imagine that those clients called Castiel quite a few things.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said again and finally, both angels nestled into the mattress.

Samandriel returned to scenting Dean’s neck and Castiel closed his eyes and basked in the massage his wings were receiving courtesy of Dean.

“Thank you for staying with me,” murmured Samandriel as he made himself comfortable against Dean’s chest. “I didn’t have any more nightmares.”

Dean smiled and snaked an arm around the little angel. “Good,” he mumbled before nuzzling silky blond hair. “You know you can always come to me whenever you get sad or scared, right? Doesn’t matter if it’s eleven at night or three in the morning – my door is always open. Even if I’m at work, you can always call me, okay?”

Samandriel snuggled closer and Dean released a pleased rumble before he could stop himself. Samandriel snickered and even Castiel smiled tentatively and wriggled a little closer.

As he lay there, bathed in scents of happiness and shy affection, with a young angel curled into his chest and an older angel who was determined to wrap him up in one huge, fluffy wing, Dean wondered if he had found paradise. He flicked his gaze to the alarm clock, which read 9:30, and sighed in contentedness because he couldn’t remember the last time he had lounged in bed because he wanted to rather than because he was too exhausted to get up or was too depressed to throw the covers off.

“I love weekends,” drawled Dean as he smoothed a hand over Samandriel’s back.

Castiel gave him a strange look.

Samandriel lifted his head with a cocked eyebrow. “It’s Tuesday.”

Dean blinked.

“Shit!” he cursed as he flung himself out of bed and nearly landed flat on his face. He stumbled to the door and banged into it once before managing to use the handle on the second try. He scuttled down the hallway to his room and swore he heard Samandriel snickering before the door fully closed.

Once he had brushed his teeth and donned some clothes, he snatched his car keys from the drawer and hurtled out of the bedroom to find Castiel already by the front door, a plate containing two slices of buttered toast in hand. The angel held the food out to him as he threw his jacket on and Dean shot him a grateful smile before cramming both pieces into his mouth as he hauled the door open.

“Nmph,” he said sincerely before racing towards the car.

Castiel merely smiled and leaned against the doorframe, watching him leave.

 

*             *             *

 

“So, after a new witness showed up a day before the trial and all that fresh ‘evidence’ surfaced regarding the deeds to the property, we now have a revised court date for the Ketch case,” huffed Sam, dropping a stack of files in front of Dean. “Y’know, because of course Ketch isn’t trying to buy time to weasel his way out of an extended sentence.”

Dean scowled and flicked through the folder on top of the pile. “When’s the court date?”

“Next Tuesday.”

Dean pulled a face and threw the file back onto the stack. “Fantastic.”

“Actually… I have a favour to ask you,” began Sam hesitantly and Dean eyed his brother suspiciously because he knew that tone of voice extremely well; Sam was about to ask him something that would probably make him want to throw things.

“Go on…”

The younger alpha shuffled his feet awkwardly before deciding to take a seat opposite Dean. “I need Castiel to testify.”

“No,” growled Dean.

Sam frowned and leaned forwards. “Dean, think about this for a second. Ketch can’t be alone in this – someone is protecting him. New evidence and witnesses don’t just appear so conveniently. He’s got someone helping him and if that’s the case, it’s entirely possible that he’ll get a light sentence and we’ll be left with his mystery partner lurking around Kansas and running the business until he gets out. Do you really want more omegas to go through what Castiel and Samandriel have been through?”

Dean clenched his jaw. “No. But I can’t expect Cas to sit in the same room as the guy who abused him for five years and took away his voice.”

“Castiel and Samandriel are the best witnesses we have,” argued Sam. “They were there, Dean! They can tell us exactly what Ketch did to them. The court will take Samandriel’s statement into consideration, but Castiel’s is the one we really need. He’s an adult and his lack of voice is strong evidence of what he suffered with Ketch. We need him there if we want a proper sentence.”

“They’re only just learning to open up to me,” protested Dean angrily. “You haven’t seen how scared they are, Sam. You haven’t seen their nightmares or their scars or heard the way they cry at the mention of a single name. You don’t know about all the stuff they’ve faced.”

Sam sighed. “I know and I’m sorry it’s come to this but we really need them to testify. Particularly Castiel. Ketch’s attorney has managed to delay the case for, what? Six weeks now? Which is frankly, ridiculous. Don’t you want him behind bars already?”

“Of course, I do,” hissed Dean, unreasonably irritated by how placid his brother was acting. “But they’ve been with me for barely two months and they’re only just learning that they’re safe, and suddenly you want to throw them into a courtroom with that… that psycho? No, Sam. I’m not letting them go through that.”

“At least ask them and see how they feel,” insisted Sam before his eyebrows pinched together. “And if you don’t, I will.”

Dean puffed his chest out and glared at his brother, barely biting back a growl. Unimpressed, Sam merely stared at him.

“They’re not your property, Dean. They’re not even family. You don’t get to make decisions like this for them.”

Dean deflated and cast his moody gaze to an interesting spot on the floorboards. “It’s not fair to make them do this.”

“Maybe they’ll disagree,” huffed Sam as he stood and headed towards the door.

The door clicked shut and Dean scowled at his hands for a little while, running through various scenarios of how he was going to broach the subject to his angels.

He looked up at the sound of the door swinging open and was about to pull a face at Sam’s return, only to sit up straight when he was greeted by the sight of Victor staring at him expectantly, coffee in hand.

“Sir,” Dean greeted.

Victor’s lips twitched and he leaned against the door, preventing anyone else from entering. “You were late this morning.”

Dean winced. “Yeah. Uh… alarm didn’t go off. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Victor raised an eyebrow that said he didn’t believe the younger alpha. “The Red Devils have struck again,” he said unhappily. “Tried to kidnap a teenaged omega angel in a back alley but fortunately, someone from a neighbouring garden heard the commotion and managed to scare the attackers off. Girl was pretty beaten up and she’s in hospital at the moment.”

Dean scowled. “Any ideas who the attackers were?”

Victor shook his head. “They were wearing masks, as usual. There were three of them and they were wearing all red.” He cocked his head slightly. “There was something strange about this case though. The guy who protected the victim said one of them had wings and horns, all painted red, of course.”

Dean blinked in surprise. “Wait, I thought the perpetrators were always human?”

Victor shrugged. “Apparently not. It seems as though there may be angels and demons involved.”

Dean frowned and stared at the pile of files Sam had left for him pertaining to the Ketch case. He cast his mind back to early that morning, when the sun hadn’t quite risen and he had been comforting a sobbing Samandriel after an emotional story about the abuse he had faced at Azazel’s hands.

“Did the witness say anything about the attackers’ designations?”

“All alphas he seemed to think,” replied Victor. “Why?”

Dean leaned back in his chair and folded his arms thoughtfully. “It’s got to be some sort of cult, right? An organisation of some sort? I mean, they wear a uniform and they work in small teams… and we only ever catch a couple at a time if we’re lucky. Even then, we can never get any information out of them. The whole thing’s too organised to be some amateur criminals or a bunch of non-affiliated crime groups who are trying to make a statement.”

Victor frowned. “The higher ups think they’re protesting immigration of angels and demons to our planet. They think they’re separate groups who all wear the same colour to show how many people are of the same opinion that Earth should be for humans and no one else.”

“Then why target only omegas?” asked Dean, shaking his head.

Victor shrugged. “Easy targets? They tend to be easier to overpower than alphas or betas. Less chance of them being able to break free.”

Dean pulled a face. “If this was a protest about immigration, angels and demons wouldn’t be joining the cause. No, this is something else.”

“We’ve only heard of one demon joining these Red Devils. It’s hardly sound evidence that something more malicious is going on.”

Dean fell silent for a few moments, thinking. “The girl. How old was she?”

“Seventeen,” said Victor, cocking an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because,” began Dean, standing up to pace a little because it helped him to think better, “everyone who has been attacked or taken has been sexually mature. No children have ever been targeted.”

Victor shook his head. “Gabrielle was taken last month and she was only seven.”

“She was taken along with her mother,” corrected Dean. “Who was an omega demon of twenty-nine. Gabrielle wasn’t targeted – she was only taken because she was with her mom at the time.”

“What are you getting at, Dean?”

“I think this is some sort of business that trades in omega services. Slavery, prostitution, breeding rings… these attacks are too-well planned and too fast to be anything less than professional. It’s almost as though the omegas are distributed across the state and given to employees who can be trusted to hide them and none of them have any dealings with other employees who hide omegas. It would make sense as to why we can’t get any information out of the people we catch – none of them are aware of anyone in the same position as them.”

Dean stopped pacing as the idea pieced itself together in his head. “So, you have a sort of rank of employees; the suppliers, who catch the omegas; the distributors, who work out where to send them; the handlers, who deal with only their personal omega or omegas; and then there has to some sort of manager or boss that oversees the whole project. It has to be a business.”

“That’s a lot of ifs,” said Victor, crossing his arms. “How have you come up with that idea?”

Dean thought back to early that morning and he grimaced at the memory of Samandriel’s wrecked sobs and Castiel’s silent fury.

“Ketch was one of them. We found the red mask. You saw what he did to Cas and Samandriel. When we questioned him, he said he was working alone and he was making a profit from the clients who came to see the angels, but new evidence shows that the house he was using didn’t belong to him and Sam thinks there’s a partner involved.” Dean strode over to the desk and leafed through the files until he found the one that he was looking for.

“Here,” he stated, pointing at a four-figured number on a page full of printed digits. “This was the gross profit Ketch earned for the month of December 2018.” He flicked ahead a few pages. “This was what he put into his account.” He pointed at a significantly higher number.

Victor frowned in confusion. “Why would it increase?”

Dean grinned. “Christmas bonus.”

“Excuse me?”

Dean straightened. “It didn’t make sense to me and Sam either – it’s the only month where Ketch put more money into his account than what he earned. We checked over a few years and it turns out that every December, he receives more money than he earns.”

Victor stared at him blankly and Dean gestured to the folder.

“That proves that someone else is involved. Probably a boss of some sort. When you look at the other months, he puts roughly fifteen percent _less_ into his account than what he earns and yes, he could have spent that fifteen percent, but I think it’s a sort of tax from the boss. From the ringleader of this whole operation.”

Victor blinked and slid the file closer, peering down at the numbers. “You think Ketch was… an _employee_?”

“One of many who didn’t know about his colleagues,” agreed Dean. He gestured to the stack of folders. “And come on, what kind of person runs an illegal prostitution business with only one omega and his kid, and keeps his finances so organised and locked away in a box under his own bed?”

Victor huffed out a startled laugh. “One who’s part of a huge business and has to keep evidence of every payment for when the boss visits to take their fifteen percent cut.”

“Right,” Dean grinned. “It’s the perfect job. No government tax collectors, you don’t have to deal with any colleagues and you don’t even know their names. You only take responsibility for one or two omegas in a house that won’t be traced back to you, you have a silent partner who has your back and takes over business if anything happens to you and your boss only takes fifteen percent of your earnings. You don’t even have to catch the omegas you work with.”

“If this is a big business, that could be a lot of fifteen percents,” said Victor thoughtfully.

“The ring leader would be pretty rich,” agreed Dean. “That’s certainly motive to start such a business.”

“Which makes your theory that much more plausible,” hummed Victor. He picked up the folder containing the finances. “Can I borrow this? I’d like to put your ideas to the Captain.”

Dean nodded enthusiastically and Victor smiled in appreciation before slipping out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Underage touching
> 
> \-----
> 
> Finally! Another chapter! Woo!


	12. The Wrong Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at bottom

_“You should have seen your face! I wish I’d taken a picture! That was priceless,” wheezed Balthazar, one arm slung around Castiel’s shoulder as he teased Gadreel. “I’ve never seen you scared of anything but that pluvati certainly wasn’t your cup of tea, was it?”_

_Gadreel’s face reddened a little, but he kept his head held high and his wings swung into their usually formal position in an effort to hide his embarrassment._

_A pluvati was a spider-like creature with twenty-four legs, fourteen eyes and a short, hard tail with a sting to it – not too unlike a scorpion. Bristly hair coated its entire body and it often produced a buzzing sound similar to a nest of hornets being repeatedly whacked with a stick._

_Despite all of these features, the pluvati was a very friendly creature and many young angels who could look past their appearance kept them as pets._

_Gadreel hadn’t been one of those younglings._

_“Evidently,” mumbled Gadreel, doing his best not to glance at the container in his mate’s free hand, where he knew the pluvati was lying dormant, waiting to be fed…_

_“Why are you carrying that thing around, anyway?” asked Castiel curiously as he peered through the container’s transparent sides. The pluvati raised a hairy leg at him almost in a wave. Beside him, Gadreel shuddered slightly._

_“Present for my niece. She learned to fly on Tuesday and she’s really into all manner of wonderful and creepy creatures. Thought I’d start her off with something easy to take care of,” explained Balthazar, gesturing to the container._

_“How thoughtful,” Gadreel muttered drily._

_Balthazar grinned and reached over to pat his mate’s wing. “Sorry, love. Couldn’t resist hiding her in your desk. It was worth it to watch you nearly break the entire office.”_

_Gadreel frowned but didn’t push his mate’s hand away._

_“It was rather amusing,” admitted Castiel quietly, not quite meeting Gadreel’s gaze and within a second, the alpha turned a betrayed expression upon him._

_“You knew,” he accused._

_“Yup!” agreed Balthazar with another winning grin. He slapped Gadreel’s back and tugged Castiel into his side with a wing, having managed to force his way between them at some point during the exchange. “The entire office knew because I told them as I was doing it.”_

_Gadreel sulked for the next few minutes as Balthazar proceeded to describe how he had convinced Anna to let him go through with the prank._

_“Cheer up, grumpy gills,” said Balthazar enthusiastically as he curled a wing around his lover. “You brought some laughter into everyone’s lives for all of ten minutes. You should be proud of yourself. Even Uriel cracked a smile and you know that’s cause for celebration.”_

_Despite himself, Gadreel’s lips twitched into a brief smile before he tried to cover it up. Balthazar spotted it quickly._

_“There you go. If they’re laughing at you, you might as well join them,” he stated, taking Gadreel’s hand and squeezing it gently. Gadreel automatically squeezed back._

_Castiel pretended not to notice their affection for each other out of politeness, but his smile grew a fraction warmer and his gaze softened. Maybe it was strange but he had become good friends with both Gadreel and Balthazar and he only wished them happiness; knowing they were in love and brought each other such happiness pleased him._

_“You’re still coming over tomorrow evening for dinner?” asked Balthazar, snapping Castiel out of his musings. He smiled at the beta._

_“If I’m still invited?”_

_Balthazar clicked his tongue. “What kind of question is that? Of course you’re still invited. You must know by now that you’re our best – and most respectful – friend?”_

_Castiel dropped his gaze, flattered by the honesty. It was quite impressive really – he had never had true friends before, yet after only six months he was best buddies with an alpha and a beta and he honestly couldn’t imagine life without them. He was used to being on his own and fighting the world and its prejudices without support. Angels did not look fondly upon omegas and Castiel was well experienced with all of the struggles and abuse that brought. He would never in a million years have expected to become such close friends with two people whose designations had caused omegas so much suffering over the centuries._

_Still, Gadreel and Balthazar never had an unkind word for him and they seemed to enjoy his company as much as he enjoyed theirs._

_Pinks and oranges sprawled across the sky the way wet paint carves a path over a floor when it is spilled from its container. Clouds interrupted the impressive hues and cast shadows upon the ground. Dusk settled over Eden and hundreds of people scurried out of high-rise towers and malls and shops, desperate to get home after a long day at work._

_Castiel, Gadreel and Balthazar entered the train station together and boarded the same carriage. Their joining him was a fairly recent development, but one Castiel had been grateful for since it began four weeks ago._

_They were in the middle of discussing Balthazar’s niece when a male alpha – around six-foot-tall with defined muscles, a square head and smelling of cigarettes and motor oil – approached them and hovered over Castiel expectantly._

_Castiel glanced up at him with a feeling of dread and that familiar tinge of shame creeping into his gut. He was sitting in an aisle seat, facing Balthazar and Gadreel. Beside him was a beta who had tucked herself against the window, nose buried in her book. The alpha above him continued to stare, tapping his foot impatiently._

_“Can we help you?” asked Gadreel before Castiel got a chance to speak. There was an edge to the usually placid alpha’s voice and Castiel felt better just knowing that Gadreel was as irritated by the stranger as he was._

_“I want to sit down,” said the alpha, still staring unblinkingly at Castiel._

_“Then go find an empty seat,” said Balthazar with a sharp smile._

_“None left,” grunted the stranger. He pressed a little closer until he was invading Castiel’s space and his wings began to raise in a dominance gesture. “I’ll have this seat instead.”_

_Castiel glared up at him. “I’m afraid I was here first. You’ll have to stand.”_

_A flicker of annoyance passed over the alpha’s expression. “You’re in my seat, omega.”_

_“I don’t see your name on it,_ alpha _,” snarked Castiel._

_There was a series of bell chimes and the train doors hissed shut as the stranger lifted his wings higher, scowling in anger._

_“Move, bitch.”_

_Gadreel snarled and those who weren’t already regarding the scene with idle interest, tutting at Castiel’s attitude or shaking their heads in disgust, suddenly snapped their gazes to the four._

_“Mind your mouth,” Gadreel growled, narrowing his eyes at the stranger as he raised his own wings as best he could in the narrow space. Beside him, Balthazar looked just as furious at the slur._

_The stranger spared them a brief glance but quickly returned his focus to Castiel, who was determined to keep his seat, unlike the countless other times he had handed it over in humiliation._

_“I said: move, you stupid bitch,” the stranger growled, grabbing Castiel’s hair and yanking him into a standing position. Castiel yelped at the sharp pain and was too shocked to do anything but comply._

_In a flash, Gadreel punched the guy hard in the stomach and sent him stumbling into a section of seats on the other side of the train, where he nearly fell into an old woman’s lap. Gadreel stood in front of Castiel, making no move to attack the other alpha any further but making it clear with his flared wings that he wouldn’t allow the guy to get any closer to Castiel._

_Castiel rubbed at the ache in his skull and Gadreel glanced down at him in concern before returning his gaze to the stranger, who looked absolutely livid with his ruffled feathers and black halo._

_“Be careful, love,” whispered Balthazar worriedly, eying the stranger as he advanced on them. Gadreel flicked a wing in acknowledgement._

_Around them, passengers began to shift uncomfortably, nervous about the potential heated alpha fight. The muscular stranger already smelled like pent-up testosterone and adrenaline, and he cracked his knuckles as he stalked over to Gadreel._

_Remaining cool, Gadreel merely blinked at the stranger, his own scent calm yet tinged with warning and wariness. He shuffled a fraction closer to Castiel._

_“Did you just hit me?” growled the stranger, filling the carriage with the stench of alpha dominance as he pushed into Gadreel’s personal space. He wasn’t as tall as Gadreel but he was certainly broader and he postured in a way that made himself look even bigger. More passengers began to shrink into their seats or shy away._

_“Depends,” hummed Gadreel. “Which is the answer that’ll make you leave quicker?”_

_The stranger grinned with too many teeth. “I’ll leave after I get my seat and the doors open for my stop.” He made another grab for Castiel and Gadreel gripped his arm before it could make contact with a raven wing._

_The stranger snarled and pressed his chest against Gadreel’s, trying to force him backwards, but Gadreel stood solid as a rock and refused to submit._

_“Get off me, puff,” the stranger spat, jerking his arm out of Gadreel’s grip and shoving at his chest roughly._

_“Just walk away,” said Gadreel calmly. Behind him, Balthazar seethed at the slur and Castiel felt anger well within him at the thought of his friends being ridiculed for their relationship. This world was so needlessly cruel._

_“I don’t take orders from queers,” sneered the stranger and it was obvious that he was desperate for a fight now. He suddenly laughed and gestured between Castiel and Balthazar. “Which one of them takes it up the ass and which one of them pounds your ass, homo?”_

_Gadreel blinked unimpressed, but his left wing twitched in testament to his silent fury. Still, he made no effort to attack the other alpha._

_“C’mon, you pansy. I asked you a question,” leered the stranger. “Which one do you present to? Which one fills your ass with hot come?”_

_Mothers covered their children’s ears and old men and women shot him disgusted looks. Gadreel shifted a little and Castiel could see how livid he was in the tension in his wings. His halo began to pepper with black, but then hints of red appeared and Castiel scowled at the idea of Gadreel growing embarrassed at anything this idiot said._

_“Piss off,” hissed Balthazar, feathers ruffled and halo a deep black spotted with red. “Crawl back into whatever gutter you were born in.”_

_“And what are you supposed to be?” scoffed the stranger, scenting in Balthazar’s direction. “You smell like some screwed-up hybrid between an alpha and a beta. A freak of nature. What wonders are you hiding between your legs? C’mon, take your pants off, freak!”_

_Gadreel belted him across the face._

_The guy staggered backwards, clutching his bloodied nose, then suddenly he was on Gadreel and the pair snarled and clawed and threw their fists at one another. Surrounding passengers yelped and tried to protect themselves from flapping wings but the fight was over in less than twenty seconds when Castiel and Balthazar leaped to their feet and peeled Gadreel away._

_They shoved him into his seat in an attempt to calm him but the stranger quickly stole Castiel’s chair with a triumphant smirk and Gadreel was ready to tear into him again despite the blood trickling down his lip._

_Unable to help himself, Balthazar bared his teeth at the stranger, a growl rumbling in his chest. The stranger growled back and Gadreel jerked forwards only to be shoved back down by both Castiel and Balthazar._

_It took a moment for Gadreel to cool down but when he did, he turned apologetic eyes to Castiel._

_“Take my seat,” he said softly._

_Castiel shook his head. “Thank you, but it’s alright.”_

_Gadreel frowned and stood. “Take it,” he insisted and because he knew Gadreel would be stubborn about it, Castiel sat._

_Pleased, Gadreel stood in front of Balthazar and Castiel, back to the aggressive stranger and wings spanned protectively. He was proving a point – that much was clear – and the fact that Castiel still had a seat obviously irked the stranger because he once again stunk of anger._

_A few people muttered around them, eying Gadreel in distaste and flitting their gazes between him and the other bruised alpha and after a while, Gadreel’s halo bloomed a cherry red; his shame and humiliation apparent in his scent. He wasn’t usually a violent alpha, but the man behind him had made him snap and now he was ashamed of his behaviour._

_He winced when Balthazar gently squeezed his hand in a gesture meant to soothe. He had let his mate down._

_“Stop it,” whispered Balthazar, running a thumb over his knuckles. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”_

_“I’m sorry,” murmured Gadreel quietly. “I didn’t mean to-”_

_“You did and I’m glad you did. He deserved it.” There was a growl behind them but Balthazar ignored it. He kissed Gadreel’s bruised knuckles and didn’t care about the looks he received. “I just didn’t want to see you get hurt.” He gestured to Castiel. “Neither of us did.”_

_Gadreel bowed his head a little in understanding and laced his fingers with his mate’s._

_When Gadreel and Balthazar had first found out about the way other passengers treated Castiel on the train, it had been because they had wanted to nip into a neighbouring zone and taking the car had seemed silly when it was only one stop away on the train. They had witnessed first-hand how Castiel had been targeted by a beta who expected him to give up his seat to her and they had been even more surprised when Castiel had a half-hearted argument with her and actually stood for her. The other passengers had muttered about him and one had groped his rear and by then, Balthazar and Gadreel had decided that they were going to accompany the omega on the train from then on._

_Castiel protested, of course. He didn’t want to inconvenience them, but they insisted and he was secretly relieved when they stuck to their word and joined him every morning and every evening. Despite their presence not solving the problem in some cases, he felt less humiliated than if he had been alone._

_Their station was three stops before his and they touched his wings lightly in a silent farewell, worried frowns marring their faces. Castiel flicked his gaze to the annoying stranger still glaring at him before smiling up at them in reassurance. They didn’t look too thrilled at the prospect of leaving him, but they eventually did and they lingered on the platform, waiting for the train to leave. Castiel waved at them through the window._

_As expected, as soon as the train pulled out of the station, two betas who had just boarded at the last stop made their way over. One sat in the empty seat and the other glared at Castiel until he sighed and gave up his perch. He had no intentions of starting another fight._

_As he made his way into the corridor to stand, the alpha from earlier smirked at him and the tips of his ears flushed red in embarrassment as people began to snicker quietly around him._

_To hide his face, he fished his phone out of his pocket and noticed that he had a missed call and a new text from Hannah._

**_Sorry, I should have asked earlier at the office but I chickened out and now I really regret it._ **

**_Dinner at Poseidon’s? Thursday at 8?_ **

****

_A slow grin crawled across Castiel’s face. Suddenly, the alpha smirking at him didn’t seem to matter so much._

_He had a date._

*             *             *

“That looks amazing,” said Dean with a bright grin as his eyes roamed over the half-finished mural. His bedroom was practically wrapped in newspapers and old sheets to prevent fresh paint from tarnishing any surface that wasn’t the wall. The whole place smelled a little weird and musty, but Samandriel was beaming, his skin and feathers covered in black and grey patches.

“You really like it?” he asked, wings fluttering excitedly.

Dean huffed out a laugh as he took in the sight of the half-complete Impala claiming most of the wall. It was remarkably similar to the one sitting in the driveway and the shine on the doors looked real enough to touch.

“I love it,” assured Dean. And he did. He had enjoyed gazing at the sketch Samandriel had etched out those few weeks ago, but seeing paint filling those outlines was even better and Dean wasn’t sure he would ever be able to sleep again because he would be too busy admiring Samandriel’s beautiful work.

“Where did you learn to draw like this?” asked Dean in wonder.

Samandriel glanced down shyly and hugged the step ladders so he wouldn’t have to look at Dean whilst he answered.

“I had a lot of time to practice at Ketch’s.”

Dean’s expression dimmed a little but the sight of the Impala brought his smile back. “Well, you’re pretty awesome, y’know.”

Samandriel’s lips curved into a grin. He turned his attention to painting the chrome details at the edges of the windscreen.

Dean watched him silently for a few moments before checking his watch. “Don’t forget your math lesson at two,” he said. “I think your dad’s already got your books out.”

Samandriel pulled a face but he flicked a wing in acknowledgement. He didn’t particularly enjoy mathematics (just as Dean didn’t) but Castiel was intent on giving his son some sort of education and thus, daily lessons had commenced. Castiel taught him mathematics and the three sciences; physics, chemistry, and biology – with the help of Sam and Dean’s old textbooks that their mother had apparently hoarded. Dean taught Samandriel English and sprouted facts about Earth and its culture whenever something interesting popped into his head. Granted, he spoke mostly about food, cars, alcohol, and music, but it was still something akin to a history lesson. He had even let Samandriel have a fiddle with his old guitar, although he was by no means any use as a music teacher.

Last night, Dean had stayed up late trying to find possible schools for Samandriel to attend, since his father so desperately wanted to give him an education. He thought it might be good for the little angel to get out into the world and make a few friends his own age and although he wasn’t sure if Castiel would approve of the idea, Dean thought that it was important to Samandriel’s future that he socialise. Still, he didn’t want to push the boy too hard, too fast, so he contented himself with merely researching each school and working out what Samandriel was expected to know for future exams.

He left the room, allowing Samandriel to paint in peace, and decided it was time to muck out the stables.

 

*             *             *

 

That evening, as the three of them relaxed into the couches with their dinner on their knees (Dean seriously needed to start searching for a dining table), Dean started to think about what his brother had asked of him earlier that week. He was working a night shift tonight, so he wouldn’t be seeing Sam at the station, but he knew his brother was expecting an answer soon.

He cast his gaze to the angels, who were happily digging into their colourful stir fry. They were smiling and their halos were a contented yellow as Samandriel chattered quietly to his father and Castiel pressed his wing into Samandriel’s every time he wanted to respond. Their wings were freshly exposed; no bandages in sight, and they had healed somewhat despite Samandriel’s wing still being a little weak after its break.

Dean felt his heart ache. He didn’t want to ruin this moment for them.

He returned to his meal and ate in silence, the food tasting suddenly bland as it hit his tongue. His expression must have given away his turbulent thoughts, for Castiel reached over with a scarred wing and nudged him gently. When Dean glanced up, the older angel pointed at him and rocked the side of his right hand over the palm of his left. It was the sign for _‘Are you alright?’_ and Dean couldn’t help the slither of pride that snaked into his heart; his angels were quick learners.

“I’m good,” said Dean but his tone lacked enthusiasm and he had misjudged how well Castiel had learned to read him over the past couple of months.

The angel arched an eyebrow.

Dean sighed and placed his half-finished meal on the coffee table. He clasped his hands together and angled his body towards the angels and they sat a little straighter upon realising he obviously had something important to say.

“Listen, I know you don’t wanna hear any of this, but Ketch’s court date is Tuesday.” They winced at the name but Dean ploughed on. “It should have been weeks ago, but new evidence showed up and we think it’s set him up for a lighter sentence. He’ll still go to prison but he’ll get out within what? Fifteen years? Maybe twelve for good behaviour.” He paused to watch their faces pale.

“If we want a life sentence, we ah… we need you both to testify. Tell the court exactly what happened.”

Castiel stiffened and Samandriel began to visibly tremble. He placed his food on the table and snuggled into Castiel’s side, hiding his face as his tremors worsened. Castiel also put his food down and wrapped his arms around his son, curling a protective wing around him as he glared angrily at Dean.

‘ _No_ ,’ he mouthed.

“I’m sorry,” Dean sighed even as his heart clenched. “I don’t want to ask you any of this, but unless you want Ketch walking the streets in a few years’ time and doing this to some other poor omega, you need to testify. He’s going to reoffend – you can always tell with those sorts of people.”

Castiel shook his head vigorously, halo flashing silver and black; all traces of contentment vanished.

“Please,” begged Dean. “Don’t you want Ketch off the streets for life?”

Castiel grit his teeth and glowered at Dean. His free wing began to twitch erratically and Samandriel whined quietly by his side.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” continued Dean. “And I know the last place you want to be is in a courtroom with the guy who abused you for five years, but you have the chance to lock him up for good and what? You’re not going to take it? You’re going to let him get off with a lighter sentence and potentially have some other omega and their kid go through what you did?”

Castiel’s breathing had rapidly increased in both rate and depth and his halo alternated between black and a blinding white. Beside him, Samandriel looked as though he was beginning to cry, however silently, and that worked Castiel up even more. He held his son closer and bared his teeth at Dean furiously, feathers ruffled and starting to moult through stress.

“You wouldn’t be alone,” tried Dean. “I’d be in the courthouse and my brother, Sam, is going to be the one actually asking the questions, trying to get Ketch locked up. Everyone’s going to be on your side and no one’s going to judge you.”

Castiel shook his head again and the air soured with both omegas’ distress. Castiel mouthed ‘No’ more forcefully and he repeated it a couple of times before glancing around frantically for something. When he couldn’t find it, he curled his fingers over and began waving his hand hurriedly, eyes wide with panic.

It took Dean a few moments to realise he was asking for a pen and by the time he actually found one and something to write on, Castiel’s halo was a solid, bright white, his eyes overly wide and his hands shaking. When Dean offered him the pen, he dropped it and looked even more panicked and suddenly, a horrible choking sound was ripped from his throat and he grasped at it fearfully, choking even more when he tried to inhale.

He fell back against the couch, coughing and wheezing and looking terrified as he clutched at his throat. Sweat beaded on his forehead and tears collected under his eyelids, and Samandriel yelled a frightened **_“Dad!”_** as his hands hovered uncertainly over his father’s body.

At first, Dean had no idea what was happening and for a horrifying moment, he thought the angel was having a heart attack. Then he remembered Helen’s voice saying something about vocal fold paresis affecting breathing and swallowing and Dean had an epiphany as he watched the angel grab his own throat.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m sorry. You don’t have to testify,” said Dean in a rush, grabbing Castiel’s shoulders to ground him. The angel stared up at him in terror, still wheezing and coughing, but thankfully not choking anymore.

“It’s alright,” soothed Dean. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You’re safe here, remember? No one’s gonna hurt you here.”

The coughing died down and Castiel curled his fingers around Dean’s arms. His palms were sweaty and a little shaky, but Dean let Castiel cling to him like a lifeline.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Dean, crouching down so he could look up at the angel and prove that he wasn’t a threat. “I’m sorry,” he said again because he felt like he ought to for causing him to have a panic attack-slash-choking fit.

Castiel closed his eyes and calmed his breathing to a steadier rate and his unshed tears trickled down his cheeks.

Without thinking, Dean leaned forwards and brushed them away with his thumb. Castiel’s eyes flew open to stare at him.

His cheeks stained pink and he averted his gaze, embarrassed. “Um… sorry.”

Castiel’s fingers tightened a little around his arms.

“You… okay?” asked Dean after a minute or so of awkward silence.

Castiel nodded shakily and curled a wing around his son when Samandriel cuddled into him worriedly.

When neither angel seemed on the verge of losing all their feathers in a fit of panic, Dean slowly returned to the other couch. They continued their meals as though nothing had happened.

 

*             *             *

At 7:30 P.M., Dean slipped on his jacket and fished his keys out of his pocket. He was about to leave for work when Castiel approached slowly and handed him a note.

 

_Will you truly be in the courtroom with us?_

                 

Dean blinked. “Um yeah. I’ve been assigned to guard Ketch.”

Castiel’s wings twitched at the name and he looked away for a few moments before scribbling something down on the pad clutched between his fingers.

 

_We will testify._

Dean blinked again and a smile stole over his face. “Cas, that’s awesome. You have no idea how awesome that is.”

The angel smiled a little shyly and nodded. He slid his hands into his pockets and dropped his gaze, clearly nervous but brave enough to stand against his abuser.

“I’ll be right there with you,” Dean promised softly and finally, Castiel looked up at him with big sapphire eyes brimming with determination and a touch of fear.

For a second, Dean’s breath whooshed out of him as he stared into expressive pools of blue, but he quickly found his voice again and reached out to squeeze Castiel’s shoulder. “I promise you won’t face this alone.”

Castiel eyed his hand briefly before nodding and offering the alpha a kind smile.

 _‘Thank you,’_ he mouthed.

Dean whistled cheerily as he sauntered to his car.

 

*             *             *

 

The next day was a Saturday and after Dean had informed his brother that Castiel and Samandriel had reluctantly agreed to appearing in court, the younger Winchester wasted no time in visiting the farm despite Dean’s suggestions of video calling. After all, he still wasn’t supposed to allow anyone into the house with Castiel, yet it seemed that Sam didn’t care about the risk of being assaulted by the dark-winged omega.

As usual, Sam’s four angels accompanied him, only this time they stayed at a respectable distance from Castiel and Samandriel; unwilling to scare them.

When Sam moved to greet his brother, a frown graced Dean’s brow. There was something… different in his brother’s scent. He elected to ignore it for the time being and asked if anyone wanted drinks, which everyone did.

When he had dispensed drinks to his guests, he automatically took a seat beside Castiel and Samandriel, and Sam and his angels all noticed the way the two omegas relaxed, but wisely chose not to comment.

“We really appreciate you both doing this,” said Sam earnestly and Castiel and Samandriel nodded tightly as the alpha flipped on a camera that he had set down on the coffee table earlier.

“You okay with everyone here or do you want me to take Michael, Lucifer, Raphael and Gabriel outside?” asked Dean.

Castiel eyed the other angels warily and Michael gestured for his brothers to stand and leave the room, but surprisingly, Castiel shook his head. He offered the other angels an awkward smile and quickly dropped his gaze, unable to help himself from bowing his head in the face of four alphas and a beta.

“No need for that,” chided Michael softly, in the way a mother might reproach a very young child.

Castiel slowly lifted his head and Michael smiled at him, pleased.

“Okay, guys,” Sam began, unusually gentle. “In your own time, tell us how you arrived at Ketch’s. What was it like? What could you see and smell? What did he say to you?”

Castiel started writing, leaving Samandriel to explain his own thoughts.

“We came from a hostel – not Helen’s,” said Samandriel slowly, almost testing the English words as he said them. “Ketch, he- he chose us. Said sweet things to us and told us we’d be safe.” He side-eyed Dean at that point and Dean remembered his own words upon meeting the young angel. “We were nervous, but excited. Earth is… different to the Silver City. We got into his…” Samandriel frowned, nose scrunching up as he tried to recall the English word.

 ** _"_** _ **You** can continue in Enochian if you wish,”_ smiled Sam kindly. **_“Anything I don’t understand, I’m sure someone can translate for me.”_** He gestured to the four angels accompanying him.

Samandriel perked up a little and smiled gratefully at Sam. **_“Van. He had a black van. When he opened the back, he introduced us to his friends. They all spoke fluent Enochian and for twenty minutes, they just chatted to us. Asked us about where we’d come from and what we liked and I was barely five so my memory’s a little fuzzy, but I’m pretty sure one of them started playing with me. Tried to teach me some old Earth song. Next thing we knew, they tied bags over our heads and handcuffed us and suddenly, they were speaking in English to one another and holding something sharp to our throats.”_**

He paused and edged closer to his father. **_“It was a bit of a blur after that. I remember being dragged into the house and the bags were removed but I was so frightened and I was crying so hard that I didn’t really pay much attention. I just wanted to get away from them.”_**

Sam blinked and scribbled something down on a pad he produced from his leather briefcase. **_“Three? There were three guys? Do you remember what the other two looked like?”_**

Samandriel frowned and opened his mouth to describe them, when a brilliant idea came to him. He gestured for Sam’s pad and pen. Reluctantly, Sam passed them over.

The little angel sketched furiously, tongue poking from between his lips and less than five minutes later, he flipped over the page and began etching something else. Once he was finished, he handed the notepad back and Sam’s eyes widened in awe.

Resting upon the two pages, were a couple of rough police-style sketches of two very different people; one a long-haired man, the other a short-haired woman, both no older than forty. The young angel had even labelled the eye and hair colours.

When Sam didn’t speak for a few moments, Gabriel, Raphael, Lucifer and Michael unsubtly peeked over at the drawings and their jaws fell slack.

Dean grinned proudly. He was well aware of how talented his little angel was.

“This… this is going to help us a lot,” said Sam quietly, so stunned that he forgot to translate to Enochian.

Samandriel smirked, lapping up their astonishment.

 ** _“The woman visited us quite a bit,”_** continued Samandriel. **_“But the man was less frequent. I don’t know either of their names though. Sorry.”_**

 ** _“No, no,”_** Sam rushed out, holding up the drawings. **_“These are amazing. You’ve done so much for us already, you have no idea.”_** He smiled warmly at Samandriel and the little angel straightened in pride.

The corners of Castiel’s eyes crinkled and he patted his son’s head gently before returning to whatever novel he was writing.

“Hey, lemme see the woman again,” blurted Gabriel suddenly, practically clinging to Sam’s arm.

Raising an eyebrow, Sam did so and the omega pursed his lips at the drawing, eyes flitting around the page rapidly and brows nearly meeting in such intense concentration.

“She looks like Suzy,” he announced.

Raphael stiffened and leaned over once more, staring hard at the picture before deflating. “A little,” he agreed quietly.

His brothers offered him a sympathetic glance.

“Suzy?” Sam asked with a wrinkled nose.

“At the bakery,” Gabriel replied before tapping on the drawing. “Same lip and eye shape. And she has that freckle above her eyebrow. She works part time too, so it’s not impossible that she could have a side job in… whatever happened to Castiel and Samandriel.”

Sam’s nodded as he finally recalled the woman in question; she had once served him a muffin when he had asked for a croissant. She was a beta and Raphael had a pretty obvious crush on her.

He jotted down a note of her name and squeezed Gabriel’s thigh in appreciation. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Dean, but he remained quiet and decided to gather more research about this seemingly new development in Sam and Gabriel’s friendship.

A moment later, Castiel passed his own pad to Sam.

Some of his explanations were fairly similar to what Samandriel had already told them. Some of them were far more detailed.

 

_When the bags were pulled over our heads, the three of them began to discuss payment. They weren’t friends and it sounded as though the man was in a higher position than both Ketch and the woman. He was an alpha and she was a beta. They were discussing something about a fifteen percent cut. A tax of some sort? It was unclear since Ketch constantly interrupted. They kept repeating the word ‘Princess’, although I’m not sure if that is of any relevance._

Sam scanned through Castiel’s thoughts, lingering on another paragraph that held more information.

 

_The woman visited fairly often and whilst she did occasionally like to ‘play’, it felt as though she was there to discuss other things with Ketch. Sometimes, when Ketch had other business to attend to, she would stay in the house and make us work. She would send customers to us and take payment from them and presumably give this to Ketch when he returned._

Sam reread the paragraph. “She could be the owner of the house,” he said suddenly and Dean leaned over to read the part that Sam was pointing to. He had to squint because of the distance and he internally mourned his withering eyesight as he was growing older.

“She could be,” he agreed thoughtfully. “We’ll need to bring her in for questioning.”

Sam nodded and handed the pad back to Castiel. **_“Okay, guys. This is great. Now, can you tell me in your own words what kind of conditions Ketch kept you in? What was the room like? How often were you able to eat? Did he ever let you out of the house?”_**

Castiel hesitated but slowly put pen to paper and began to write. Samandriel pressed into his father’s side a little more, eyebrows drawing together and wings low against his back. His halo began to thread with silver.

 ** _“He never let us out of the house. He fed us one meal in the evening and gave us paper cups which we had to fill using water from the bathroom. We were never allowed to leave our room.”_** He paused, dropping his gaze to his lap momentarily, but Castiel snaked an arm around his waist and the young angel suddenly found the courage to continue.

**_“The windows were barred on the inside and the bathroom didn’t have any windows anyway. We were only given a few choices for clothes and Dad always had to wear something ‘sexy’, even when it was Winter and everything was cold. I had to wear a lot of soft things and Ketch made sure that most of my clothes didn’t cover my legs and arms and sometimes my tummy. I think it was because the customers liked those sorts of clothes._ **

**_“He made us clean the room for customers and he washed the bedsheets every night after they got dirty from customers. He must have put something in our food though because we never woke up when he came into the room to change the covers. Eventually, we started throwing the dirty covers on the floor and sleeping on the bare mattress since we were going to wake up on it anyway. I don’t think Dad liked the idea of Ketch touching us and moving us so he could get to the covers. We had to make the bed in the morning before the first customer arrived.”_ **

Dean could feel his anger rising at the picture that Samandriel was painting. He imagined living through five years of that and found his mind coming up with ways to painfully torture Ketch instead. Surprisingly, he wasn’t the only one who was struggling to comprehend all that Castiel and Samandriel had faced.

Michael was clearly grinding his jaw, wings stiff behind him and Lucifer’s eyes were narrowed, fingers curled tightly around the arm of the couch. Raphael’s wings were beginning to twitch in distress and Gabriel looked heartbroken as he gazed at little Samandriel. Sam had somehow wrapped an arm around Gabriel, holding on to him almost protectively as he scribbled notes with his other hand.

Once again, Castiel finished writing and passed his explanation over to Sam. Some of it was the same as what Samandriel had already mentioned, so Sam focused on the parts that weren’t.

 

_The door was constantly locked and there was a large flap at the bottom, which was opened when Ketch gave us food or returned items such as clean sheets or washed clothes. He wouldn’t allow us any heating in the winter as it made the customers too hot during sex and considering we were only fed the bare minimum to survive, we didn’t have a lot of energy to generate much body warmth._

_The sheets were cleaned to get rid of stains and the scent of previous clients, but the room constantly smelled of alphas and betas and this seemed to excite most clients since there seemed to be a common fantasy of claiming omegas whilst in the presence of other alphas and betas. That smell was everywhere and I don’t think I will ever forget how overpowering it was._

_There was a mirror above our bed, but it was clear that it was a one-way window for Ketch to look through to ensure we were behaving correctly._

_There was a chest of drawers full of sex toys and we were expected to leave these near the flap for cleaning once they had been used. Everything was cleaned for the sake of the customer and we were expected to entertain customers for seventeen hours per day; 11 A.M. until 4 A.M, with a short break for dinner if there was a lull in customers and if not, we ate at 4._

_If we had been ‘good’ that week, Ketch would allow us one request for a luxury item, such as a book or some pencils and paper. If we tried to fight him or the clients in any way, he would punish us – cigarette burns, smacks, kicks, punches, a slash from a pocket knife. A couple of times he threw boiling water over me and he once stabbed Samandriel’s hand with a pencil he had gifted him earlier that week. His favourite punishment was the whip from the toy drawer, but he didn’t use it as much as the other punishments because he said it was only for special occasions – when we had been particularly defiant. There were other creative punishments too, like throwing vegetable oil over our wings and tossing lit matches at us but they weren’t commonplace._

Sam swore softly under his breath and tore his eyes away from the notes to collect himself. There was a low, continuous growl rumbling in his chest and he closed his eyes to focus on stopping it, aware that Gabriel was leaning over to read what he had.

A minute later, when Sam had gained control over himself, he opened his eyes to find Dean hovering over his shoulder with a thick scowl as he scanned over the page. Gabriel whined when he reached the end and he shifted on the couch, looking as though he wanted to comfort Castiel and Samandriel.

Castiel stared at him curiously and Samandriel cocked his head at the golden-winged omega.

“Easy,” Sam whispered, lightly touching Gabriel’s wrist and the omega slumped a little, scent roiling with stress and disappointment and instinct to comfort.

Dean stomped back to his seat, clearly furious and to add to Gabriel’s scent of concern and distress, he released his own scent of bubbling anger sprinkled with a strong desire to protect.

Castiel wrinkled his nose at all the clashing scents swirling about the room but he didn’t shrink back or tuck Samandriel into his side, which was a plus.

Sam took a moment to steady his voice as he returned the pad to Castiel.

**_“Okay, you’re doing really well, guys. Now… I need you to explain to me some of the things you went through not only with Ketch, but with the clients too. What sorts of things did they want you to do? How far did Ketch let them go? What sort of mindset and physical state were you left in? In your own time.”_ **

Castiel was ramrod straight as he stared at Sam, pen clutched so tightly it was beginning to crack. Samandriel began to tremble.

 ** _“He never stopped them,”_** Samandriel whimpered in a rush. **_“Ketch never stopped them when they hurt Dad. Dad said he watched through the huge mirror above our bed. Said it was a special kind of window.”_** His voice began to rise in pitch and his halo began to fleck with white.

**_“The customers hurt him all the time. They made him scream and cry and they liked it when he begged them to stop. Sometimes they hit him and didn’t care if he bruised. Sometimes they left and there was blood everywhere – between his legs, on the sheets, on the toys and sometimes they smeared it over his tummy or face and smiled at it as though they were painting something pretty._ **

**_“They called him horrible things and handcuffed him to the bed whilst they did whatever they wanted to him and sometimes, they pulled his hair and shoved their knots or whatever into his mouth until he couldn’t breathe. They said stuff like they were going to ‘breed him up’ or they’d ‘teach him to be a good whore’ and that was just the angels and demons who came to visit us. I couldn’t understand the humans, but none of them sounded nice.”_ **

Tears dripped down Samandriel’s cheeks as his wings twitched erratically and his halo glowed brighter and brighter.

**_“They touched me and liked it when I took off my clothes. They never did any of the other stuff to me, but they kissed me sometimes and they liked putting their fingers in my oil glands. A few customers put their tongues in there too and Dad hit them when they did that, but that only made them hurt him more. They usually forced me to watch them ‘play’ with Dad.”_ **

Samandriel’s whole body vibrated and his words came quicker and quicker as he told the story and once he found that he couldn’t continue, there was a horrible stench in the air; filled with unadulterated fury and hatred and desire to comfort.

Michael and Lucifer were snarling, their wings spanned wide in an offensive pose and their halos were black and their eyes glowed intensely. Raphael’s wings flapped behind him, clearly upset by the desperation in Samandriel’s tone and his eyes also glowed as brightly as his brothers’. Gabriel looked ill as he stared at Castiel and Samandriel in despair, leaning so far forwards that he was nearly off the couch with his instinct to comfort the younger angels.

Sam and Dean were livid. Their scents were the most pungent and as Sam snapped the pen in his grip, Dean struggled to restrain himself from getting up, driving to Ketch’s location, and straight up shooting the guy.

Samandriel’s eyes grew wide as he looked around at everyone’s faces and he began to shake more, cowering into his father’s side as sobs punched out of his throat.

 ** _“Don’t hurt us,”_** he begged, squeezing his eyes shut.

In a flash, Gabriel darted towards him and Dean realised the imminent danger too late as Castiel’s wings snapped outwards, eyes flashing warningly. Gabriel didn’t seem to notice and he made to gently smooth a hand through the boy’s hair as he whispered sweet comforts in Enochian.

Samandriel cried out in fear at Gabriel’s proximity and before Gabriel’s hand could make contact with soft blond tufts, Castiel lunged at him and pinned him to the carpet.

Gabriel seemed to come back to himself and his eyes blew wide as he stared up at the seething Castiel. He fell limp beneath the stronger omega and whispered, **_“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I would never hurt him.”_**

Castiel hesitated and Gabriel’s brothers shifted to help him, but Dean held a hand up and frowned at them sharply.

“That was really stupid, Gabe,” Dean muttered and the omega grimaced and offered Castiel an apologetic look.

**_“He’s crying and I… I don’t know. I couldn’t help it. I promise, I’d never ever hurt him. I just… I wanted to help.”_ **

Castiel frowned at Gabriel for a few more moments before begrudgingly climbing to his feet and allowing Gabriel to pull himself upright. He looked up at both Castiel and Samandriel from the floor and then suddenly, there was a very small, fluffy, white Arctic fox standing where he had been sitting. It had expressive golden eyes and it blinked up at Samandriel innocently before slowly approaching and hopping onto the couch.

When Samandriel made no movement to suggest he was afraid of the creature, the fox padded onto his lap and nuzzled his chin and pressed its head into his palm. Eventually, Samandriel started to card his fingers through the fox’s fur and his tears dried and his sniffles ceased as he watched the creature curiously. It pawed at his hand and wriggled onto its back for belly scratches and when Samandriel finally began to smile, it licked his nose and barked in the way that dogs don’t.

Castiel blinked at Gabriel’s new form in surprise and when the fox gently nudged his hand and looked up at him with big, sorrowful, golden eyes, he scratched its ear in forgiveness. The fox’s tail wiggled and it returned to occupying Samandriel with its plush tail.

Lifting his head with as much dignity as he could muster, Castiel began writing. He wrote and wrote and wrote until his hand began to cramp and his face burned and once he was finished, he passed his latest message over to Sam, his handwriting far untidier and the page full of scribbles and crosses compared to his previous notes.

As Sam’s gaze descended down the page and onto the next one, the alpha found it harder and harder to swallow and bile crawled up his throat as the pad began to crinkle beneath his suffocating grip.

He forced himself to read to the end and when he had, he closed his eyes for a moment.

“May I keep this?” he asked so quietly that Castiel only barely heard him. “As evidence?”

Castiel nodded stiltedly and Sam dropped the pad into his case.

A tense silence fell upon the room and Sam switched off the camera and packed his notes away. “That’s enough questions for today,” he murmured, voice cracking a little. He flicked his gaze to the stiff Castiel and Samandriel, who was currently hugging Gabriel to his chest. “You don’t… you don’t have to answer anything else today.”

Silently, Dean slid his arm over the back of the couch, past Samandriel, and smoothed light fingers over the edge of one of Castiel’s wings. The angel startled at first but quickly leaned into Dean’s reassuring touches as he nodded gratefully at Sam.

“Castiel, I-” Sam cut himself off and shook his head, struggling to find words after what he had heard and read and witnessed. He swallowed thickly. “You’re safe here, okay? I know we got off on the wrong foot when we first met and I said a couple of things I probably shouldn’t have, but you and Samandriel… you’re safe here. And I don’t just mean with Dean. You’re safe with all of us; Michael, Lucifer, Raphael, Gabriel, me… we’d never hurt either of you and we never want you to feel uncomfortable or insecure around us.”

 ** _“We understand that a bunch of strange alphas and betas are probably the last people you’d search for comfort or reassurance from,”_** added Michael; the harsh Enochian syllables a stark contrast to Sam’s shaky English, **_“but we are here if either of you ever need us. We… we’d be happy to accept a couple of new additions to the flock.”_**

Castiel’s eyebrows flew skywards in shock and Dean made a note to research what ‘flock’ meant in angel terms.

Gabriel pressed his fluffy head into Castiel’s hand as if to say: “And I’m here too if you’d prefer an omega to talk to.”

 ** _“Thank you,”_** said Samandriel quietly as both he and his father once again bowed their heads.

Michael made a distressed noise at the gesture and Gabriel wriggled into Samandriel’s chest frantically, nuzzling and licking his hands in an attempt to stop him from bowing. He whined pathetically and Samandriel hugged him close, pressing his face into his fur.

Dean squeezed Castiel’s wing gently. “Enough of that, Cas. No need for it.”

Castiel side-eyed him but raised his head again and placed his hands awkwardly in his lap, and Dean returned to smoothing a palm over the wing ridge.

 ** _“Can we talk about something else?”_** Samandriel whispered from the safety of Gabriel’s fur.

 ** _“How about you tell them what you’ve been working on in my room?”_** asked Dean smoothly, offering the young angel a lopsided smile.

Immediately, Samandriel perked up; the white and silver of his halo bursting into a joyous gold.

 ** _“The car!”_** he exclaimed excitedly.

Dean grinned and nodded and Samandriel launched into an enthusiastic story about what he was painting in Dean’s room.

As the afternoon progressed, the repugnant scents stifling the room began to fade, to be replaced with happiness and amusement and affection for Samandriel’s animated tales. Dean asked his brother and the four angels to stay for dinner since Castiel and Samandriel appeared to have grown far more relaxed around them, and they found themselves sharing stories of work and pranks and childhoods over boxes of freshly delivered pizza.

At some point during the evening (probably when the food arrived), Gabriel morphed back into his angel form and beamed in delight when Samandriel leaned against his side, waving pizza around and speaking with his mouth full as he recalled a story of Dean being outsmarted by Persephone. The alpha hadn’t realised Samandriel had even seen him trying to chase the wily lamb around the grounds, only to somehow lock himself inside Persephone’s stable whilst she bleated triumphantly at him from the other side.

Whilst everyone laughed at him and Samandriel grinned innocently at him, Dean leaned over and took a bite out of the pizza slice Samandriel was waving around. It earned him an indignant complaint from the little angel, and Gabriel (the traitor) snatched Dean’s plate from him and offered it – and the untouched slice of pizza upon it – to a smug-looking Samandriel. Then, Gabriel returned the empty plate to Dean.

It was a cheerful end to an exhausting day and when Sam and his angels decided that it was time to leave, Samandriel shuffled over to give Gabriel a shy hug and the older omega was absolutely thrilled. He wrapped the boy up in his wings, ruffled his hair and squeezed him playfully and when he finally released Samandriel, the boy was beaming.

“I’ll come back tomorrow, okay?” Sam said as he hovered in the doorway and Castiel nodded, understanding that there were more questions that Sam needed the answers to.

“Bring Gabriel!” Samandriel called, earning him a double thumbs-up from said angel.

Sam chuckled as he herded the angels towards his car.

 

*             *             *

 

The quiet was a welcome relief after the stresses of the day. Don’t get him wrong, Dean loved his brother and the rag-tag team of angels that flocked to him like ducklings in search of a responsible adult duck, but today had been emotionally draining for all parties and Dean could still smell the stench of everyone’s earlier murderous rage clinging to his curtains. He should probably get new curtains anyway since his current ones were a little moth-eaten.

The feeling of his bed against his skin wasn’t too dissimilar from paradise and whilst his mattress was a little out of shape from so many years of sitting on it (amongst other things), he knew he would fall asleep quickly. Maybe he should invest in a memory foam mattress – he had heard wonders about them from the guys at the station…

He smiled to himself as he began to drift off into a dream about a restaurant that made pies for every course…

The door creaked open and the mattress dipped to his left.

Dean startled into consciousness and blinked into the darkness to find two pairs of familiar blue eyes staring back at him, halos red with embarrassment. They continued to stare at each other until Samandriel coughed quietly.

**_“I um… I had another nightmare.”_ **

Dean frowned, mostly because his brain didn’t feel like it had booted up properly, and he checked his clock. _04:24._ Huh. He had been asleep for three hours.

He shuffled over to make room for Samandriel and Castiel, and slung an arm around Samandriel when the boy snuggled into him. Castiel hovered beside the bed.

 ** _“Dad,”_** Samandriel complained, patting the space next to him. Castiel eyed Dean uncertainly.

“Get in the bed, Cas,” grumbled Dean, face half smashed into the pillow. “You wouldn’t be in here if you hadn’t had a nightmare too.”

Castiel’s eyes widened and he fidgeted for a moment before sighing and crawling into the bed as well. He waited all of sixty seconds before sliding closer and curling a wing around both Dean and his son.

Dean rolled onto his side and slid one arm around Samandriel and the other around Castiel as best he could. He didn’t care if he lost blood supply to one of his limbs – he had two angels to take care of.

“Night, Dean,” whispered Samandriel.

Dean grunted in agreement and tugged both angels closer. It took him precisely fifty-two seconds to fall asleep again and Samandriel followed twelve seconds later.

Neither of them noticed Castiel’s subtle swallow or the way he slid his arm over Dean to clutch at his pyjamas. Nor did they notice how he scented at the pillows and the duvet, inhaling the comforting smells of freshly baked bread, cedar wood and leather. His breaths were shaky as he settled into the mattress but he, too, eventually fell into a peaceful – and thankfully dreamless – sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Talk of Samandriel and Castiel's past. Some homophobic language.
> 
> Hope you guys are still enjoying this fic - I've actually got it properly planned out now! As always, constructive criticism is welcomed


	13. Courtroom Controversy

_“You’ve either got gas or a date. Which is it?”_

_Castiel shot upright, flicking fat droplets of water all over the spotless mirror. He turned the tap off and glowered at Balthazar._

_“I can certainly see those charms that Gadreel fell for.”_

_Balthazar flashed him a winning grin and leaned against the granite wall, folding his arms as he watched Castiel dry his hands with a couple of blue paper towels (because no matter which planet one visited, blue paper towels would be lurking somewhere inside a public bathroom – they were one of the few constants of the universe)._

_“You’ve been smiling all day, Cassie. You’ve been stinking the office out with the sickly-sweet smell of joy and now I’m craving muffins. Which relative have you poisoned and how much are you inheriting?”_

_Castiel’s lips twitched upwards and he shook his head at his friend fondly. “I have a date,” he said, rolling his eyes. “A third date, to be precise.”_

_Balthazar’s gaze lit up with excitement and he checked that the door was closed before gliding over to Castiel with fluttering wings. The beta thrived on workplace gossip and Castiel was half-convinced that he would wither away and die if he didn’t get his daily dose – he seemed to know everyone’s business and he never forgot anyone’s names, even if he had only met them once._

_“Don’t leave me in suspense,” Balthazar smirked, fixing a few of Castiel’s feathers out of habit. Castiel let him; very few people touched his wings with the intention of taking care of them. Most people tended to grab them and throw him around, or in a few notable cases involving brutish, overbearing alphas, use them as a surface to mark with wing oil. Honestly, Balthazar and Gadreel were currently the only people who ever touched his wings tenderly – as though they weren’t the hideously malformed things that everyone else informed him they were._

_“I shouldn’t,” murmured Castiel. “It’s only the third date. We haven’t even kissed. I know what you’re like – you won’t be able to keep your mouth shut and I don’t want her to feel embarrassed around me afterwards.”_

_Balthazar smirked. “So, they’re female and they work here? Most likely in the office considering you’ve implied that you work closely with this person. So, someone on our team, then? Who does that leave? Anna or Hannah?”_

_Castiel blinked, opened his mouth then aborted the movement and snapped it shut again in order to stare at Balthazar in stunned silence. Balthazar cackled._

_“You’re making this far too easy, Cassie. Now, I’m pretty certain that Anna isn’t into the whole ‘dating an underling’ kind of thing, which means you’re shacking up with Hannah. Am I right or am I right?” He winked and slung an arm around Castiel, grinning at him through the mirror._

_“We’re not sleeping together,” huffed Castiel with as much indignance as he could muster whilst a pout tugged at his bottom lip._

_“Aww. My poor, darling little virgin.” Balthazar patted his head and Castiel grumbled a complaint and wisely chose to not explain how he wasn’t a virgin. Instead, he shoved Balthazar’s hand off his head._

_“Don’t start,” he threatened. “If you scare her off, I’ll pluck out all of your feathers and use them as pillow stuffing.”_

_Balthazar offered him a smile with far too many teeth but after a few moments of Castiel fixing his tie, the expression faded and Castiel paused at the look that his friend was directing at him through the mirror. Balthazar’s eyebrows were pinched together into a concerned frown and his arm was still resting upon the omega’s shoulders, fingers curled slightly into the crisp material of Castiel’s shirt._

_“Balthazar?” asked Castiel carefully._

_The beta gave him a strained smile. “You know her power is influencing emotions, right?”_

_Castiel frowned at Balthazar’s reflection. “What’s that supposed to mean?”_

_Balthazar shook his head and squeezed Castiel gently. “Just… be careful, okay? I like you, Cassie. I don’t want you getting hurt.”_

_Castiel peeled himself away from Balthazar and turned to the other angel. “Are you worried that she’s… I don’t know… forcing me to feel something for her?” he demanded. “That she’s using her powers to influence my attraction to her?”_

_Balthazar shook his head slowly. “…No. I just… I want you to be cautious. As I said, I like you, and Hannah is…” he trailed off, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably._

_Castiel’s lips drew into a thin line. “And your power is making everyone you lay eyes upon lust after you. How is your relationship with Gadreel any different to Hannah’s and mine?”_

_Balthazar recoiled at the sharp words and scowled, crossing his arms defensively. “I can’t force anyone to fall in love with me,” he huffed. “And I can assure you that Gadreel doesn’t only lust after me.”_

_Castiel’s wings flicked irritably. “And what makes you so sure that Hannah doesn’t genuinely like me?”_

_Balthazar sighed and unfolded his arms in defeat. “I never said that. I just said for you to be careful.”_

_“Noted,” Castiel grated out before turning to the mirror once more and making a fuss over his wrinkleless shirt._

_Balthazar’s gaze lingered upon his face sadly before he turned and shuffled out of the bathroom without his usual flamboyance. The door closed gently behind him and a deafening silence fell within the bathroom._

*             *             *

 

The silence was the sort of silence that, were it a living being, no one would have wanted to look it in the eye. It was the sort of silence that made babies cry and caused cats to arch their backs. It was the sort of silence where a soft cough made everyone turn in their seats with the same expression one might wear when a person has asked the Queen of England for three lines of crack and a straw.

Dean and Gordon were tasked with escorting Ketch into the courtroom.

Sam and an alpha demon dressed in a tight-fitting suit rose from their seats as the judge entered the room. Dean could tell from his brother’s expression that he was unhappy with Ketch’s defence attorney and to be perfectly honest, Dean didn’t blame him. With her fiery red hair tied up on top of her head like a flawless wasps’ nest, her blood-red lipstick shimmering beneath the old courthouse lights, and her six-inch heels clacking sharply on the wooden floor, Dean couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated.

Her wings were black and red – clearly dyed or maybe tattooed – and when Dean stood beside her in order to take his position behind Ketch, she smirked at him, revealing pointed, white canines. He swallowed thickly and tried not to catch her gaze for the remainder of the session.

Instead, he slid his gaze to Castiel as subtly as he could and felt his heart ache at the angel’s stiff posture. He looked brittle enough to crumble if someone so much as breathed on him. Beside him, Samandriel was trembling slightly, pressing into Castiel’s side and doing all he could to not look at Ketch. He held his head high though and didn’t so much as whimper, and Dean’s chest swelled with pride.

“Please be seated,” intoned the judge, not bothering to peer over his thin-rimmed, circular spectacles as he took his seat.

The bailiff passed a file to the judge and returned to his mark beside the desk.

“Case three-hundred-and-forty-seven on the matter of Arthur Ketch versus the state,” droned the judge. He was an older, balding man with a small mouth and a body type resembling that of an obese penguin. “This case is now in session.”

A few members of the audience startled as the gavel hit the sound block.

The judge – Judge Moores – glanced over the file the bailiff had given him. “Mr. Ketch, you are accused with misuse of the Indentured Servitude programme regarding the immigration of demons and angels into US territory. You have subsequent accusations of physical violence and sexual exploitation of two omega angels that were signed over to your care – one of which is a minor. You are also accused of omega trafficking and grievous bodily harm with intent regarding the adult angel, who suffered severe vocal fold paralysis. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” said Ketch calmly.

Judge Moores nodded and flicked his gaze to Sam. “You may proceed with questioning, Mr. Winchester.”

Sam ducked his head slightly in appreciation and called for Ketch to stand.

“Mr. Ketch, have I got it correct in that a little over five years ago, you signed the papers that would release two angels into your custody - one of these angels being no more than five years old?”

Ketch cocked an eyebrow at Sam and nodded lazily. “Yes.”

“And in order to transport these angels, you led them into the back of a van, where two associates of yours were already seated?”

Ketch paused, then nodded again. “My friends helped me, yes.”

“And one of these friends – Suzy – she is a business partner of yours, correct? Or at least, the house you were occupying was under her name.”

“Yes,” hummed Ketch. “The house didn’t belong to me.”

“Did she visit you often?”

“Sometimes,” said Ketch. “She wasn’t the sort of landlord who hovered.”

“Landlord?” asked Sam. “That would imply that you paid some sort of rent to her. Yet, your bank statements don’t show that.”

Ketch raised an eyebrow. “I paid fifteen percent of my wages, in cash, to a small landlord company every month. It doesn’t show up on the bank statements because I paid on the day that I received my wages.”

Sam frowned. “That would suggest that your wages were paid to you in cash. Wouldn’t that mean you were committing tax fraud?”

Ketch licked his lips and his attorney stood. “Objection. Mr. Ketch is on trial for the serious accusation of sexual exploitation and GBH, not for how he pays his taxes.”

Judge Moores glanced at her. “Sustained,” he sighed.

She smiled at Sam and took her seat once more. Sam restrained himself from scowling.

“Mr. Ketch, what exactly does your job entail?”

“I’m self-employed,” he drawled. “A field sales executive. I host a lot of meetings with clients and businesses who offer me a contract.”

Dean frowned. He and Sam had been scouring through all of Ketch’s files earlier in the week and the man did indeed appear to have records with many different businesses that had offered him short-term employment over the years.

“Any side jobs?” asked Sam lightly.

Ketch shook his head.

Sam smiled tightly and returned to his desk, producing a brown envelope packed with photographs.

“These are pictures that the detectives and forensics of the KPD took on the day you were arrested. They show the condition of one of the ensuite bedrooms in the house you were renting.” Sam passed the pictures to the clerk, who set the first one under a projector. The image appeared on a large screen beside the judge’s podium.

“This photograph depicts bloodied bed sheets and a small pile of used adult toys left near a door fitted with a bolted flap.” Sam cocked an eyebrow. “As this photo was taken, two omega angels were being escorted from the house. They were removed from this room, which was locked from the outside when police arrived. How would you explain this picture, Mr. Ketch?”

Ketch looked vaguely embarrassed and he glanced down at his attorney. The demon – Abaddon Fuego – nodded at him.

“They’re mine,” he admitted after a moment, in the tone of someone who wants the floor to swallow them whole. “The toys, I mean. I was too embarrassed to keep the chest in my room so I put it in that one instead.” He closed his eyes, seeming pained. “I had a guest over that evening – one of the clients I was trying to encourage to do business with my contract holder. The meeting was taking a long time and we both started to get a little peckish. I ordered a takeaway and then realised I’d forgotten to ask for delivery. The client – a man who was recently arrested in Brazil for tax evasion – told me to go pick up dinner and he’d be happy to entertain himself until I returned.”

Ketch grimaced and closed his eyes. “I suppose I should’ve been suspicious about his wording. It took me twenty minutes to get there and back and when I returned home, the angels’ door was open and the client was…” He swallowed and shook his head. “The older angel, Castiel… he was… the child was in the corner, crying. The client was ramming his knot into Castiel and there was blood everywhere. I remember tripping over the toys by the door and pulling the client off the bed. I remember kicking him out of the house without really thinking about the police and I remember Castiel trying to clean himself off and not letting me help him. He didn’t want me anywhere near him and I don’t blame him, to be honest. I can’t imagine how furious I must have smelled.”

Ketch averted his gaze in shame. “I locked the door because I was worried that the client would break in somehow. It was an irrational notion, I suppose, but I thought it might have made Castiel and his son feel a little safer.”

Ketch suddenly wrinkled his nose and stole a quick glance behind him. Dean glared at him lividly and barely restrained himself from baring his teeth. Even Abaddon was beginning to scrunch her nose up in distaste and Gordon sent Dean a sharp look to control his scent.

Dean flicked his gaze to Castiel and Samandriel to distract himself and soon realised it was probably the worst thing he could have done.

Castiel was staring at Ketch’s back with his fists clenched, his feathers ruffled and his eyes glowing a dim blue. He looked ready to hurdle the bar and rip the man’s tongue out. Samandriel was glowering too, halo an ominous black, and Dean swore he could hear a soft growl.

“So, your story is that you saved Castiel and his son from a client you don’t even know the name of?” asked Sam and Dean could tell by his brother’s tone that Sam had taken personal offence to the lie.

“I kicked the fellow out of the house, but I hardly saved Castiel,” huffed Ketch. “He still had to suffer through a knotting.”

“I see. And the loss of Castiel’s voice; how do you explain that? The doctors believe that it was caused by intense pressure to the laryngeal nerve, thus severing it and producing an injury called ‘vocal fold paresis’. It has been suggested that you caused this injury by strangulation.”

“Objection,” protested Abaddon calmly. “Speculation.”

“Sustained,” agreed the judge. “Disregard Mr. Winchester’s last statement.”

Sam’s lips drew into a thin line and Dean suddenly understood why Sam didn’t like the female attorney.

“How was Castiel’s vocal injury caused?” asked Sam.

“A demon,” replied Ketch simply. “He got into a fight with one whilst we were walking around town. You know how angels and demons are when they meet.”

Sam narrowed his eyes and Dean could practically feel his brother’s sarcasm itching to burst free.

“A demon?” Sam repeated. “A demon strangled Castiel in the middle of the street?”

Ketch shrugged. “I don’t know anything about strangling, but there was definitely a fight. I have to admit, I was a little nervous about stepping in between them but I managed to pull Castiel away eventually. I’ve found that he’s always had a bit of a violent streak. Ill-tempered, that one.”

Dean flicked his gaze back to Castiel and watched his eyes glow brighter with outrage. His wings had risen and the people behind him were frowning at him in disapproval.

Ketch smirked, eyes sliding over to Castiel. “I mean, case in point,” he said, gesturing with cuffed hands to the seething angel.

A few audience members began to mutter amongst themselves and some of the jury scribbled notes as they glanced at Castiel. Embarrassed, Castiel snapped his wings inwards and stared at Dean helplessly.

“Order,” frowned the judge, tapping his gavel on the sound block a couple of times until silence fell within the courtroom.

Sam scowled briefly. “I’d like to call upon a witness,” he informed the judge.

Judge Moores nodded. “Call your first witness, Mr. Winchester.”

“I’d like to call upon Castiel Novak,” stated Sam. “One of the omega angels retrieved from Mr. Ketch’s home.”

There was a flurry of movement then, as Castiel made his way to the witness stand and was made to endure the rigmarole of swearing to tell the truth upon the Bible – which Dean though was rather absurd considering the fact that the Bible wasn’t even a book that existed back on Heaven. At least the bailiff had the grace to offer Castiel a pad of paper and something to write with.

“Mr. Novak, in your own words, could you explain to the court how you sustained your injury and how you first realised that you had lost your voice?” asked Sam, tone a little softer. He smiled at Castiel patiently and gestured to the notepad. “Take as much time as you need and once you’re finished, pass the paper to the gentleman on your left.”

The bailiff nodded solemnly at Castiel and the angel began writing, resolutely ignoring Ketch’s off-putting smirk and the way his gaze raked over Castiel’s form, as though proud of the scars littering the angel’s wings and skin.

A few minutes passed before Castiel offered the bailiff his writings and the bailiff cleared his throat.

“’We were three years into our stay with Ketch. The previous two alphas I had been forced into intercourse with had both been in rut. There was a break in customers wherein we were afforded our only meal of the day – some sort of soup. It became apparent that the ache in my stomach was due to more than just the usual hunger pains. My son informed me that my scent was stronger than usual and I realised that I had entered a heat – most probably kick-started a week or two early due to the onslaught of alpha rut hormones. The aching had doubled by the time I finished my meal and I felt hot and tired and my clothes were beginning to dampen with sweat.

“’I heard Ketch greet another client and I could smell that she was in rut. I told him that I had started my heat and had no intention of pleasuring another customer. He insisted that I didn’t have a choice and locked me in the bedroom with the female alpha angel. She tried to pin me against a wall even though I begged her to leave me alone, so I had no choice but to fight back. I managed to subdue her long enough to barricade both my son and myself in the bathroom and eventually, she grew bored enough to leave and demand a refund from Ketch.

“’He wasn’t too pleased at having to return her money and later that evening, after I finally deemed it safe enough to emerge from the bathroom and prepared to climb into bed, he barged into the room and dragged me out of bed by looping a thick, slip-rope dog leash around my neck. We struggled for a few minutes and I managed to kick him away, but when I tried to escape from the room with my son, he merely grabbed the leash and threw it around my neck again. Since I was facing away from him this time, I struggled to free myself and he managed to slip one end of the leash over the other and pulled the free end until it tightened. He pulled until I couldn’t breathe and there was a burning sort of pain that raced through my neck and down through what felt like every nerve in my body.

“’When I next opened my eyes, the room was dark and I was lying on the bed in a pool of my own slick as my son sobbed himself hoarse by my side. I tried to reassure him that I was still alive, but found my voice wouldn’t cooperate.’”

By the end of the explanation, the bailiff’s voice had gentled somewhat. His brows were pinched together and he looked vaguely sickened by what he had read.

As the jury scribbled down notes, Castiel tilted his chin slightly and kept his wings in a neutral position. He glanced briefly at Dean and the alpha gave him the most reassuring and proud look he could without looking like he was influencing the angel’s answers. Castiel’s lips twitched upwards slightly in gratitude.

In front of Dean, Ketch’s smile had vanished.

“Am I correct in assuming that you were forced into having sex with multiple customers both before and after this occasion? It wasn’t just a one-day thing?”

Castiel shook his head as Abaddon stood. “Objection. Leading question.”

The judge frowned at her slightly but eventually sighed. “Sustained. Mr. Winchester, reword your question.”

Sam pursed his lips. “Mr. Novak, how often were you forced to have sex with customers?”

Castiel gestured quickly with his hands, leaving the courtroom a little confused. He formed the movement again, sharp and precise, but even Sam seemed lost.

“Every day,” blurted Dean as he recognised the series of signs. Castiel nodded at him and continued with a new sequence of signs, a little slower this time. “Seven days per week, eighteen hours per day,” translated Dean with a burst of excitement in his chest – he thought he wasn’t retaining the lesson content very well but apparently, he could remember it when he needed it. Castiel smiled at him proudly and Dean couldn’t help but grin at the silent praise in the angel’s warm gaze.

“Responses have to be written,” interrupted Abaddon curtly. “This officer has a close relationship with the witness and thus his translations may be biased. Since we had no reason to believe that Mr. Novak was fluent in ASL, we have no authorised interpreter in this courtroom and as such-”

“Yes, yes, Ms. Fuego,” dismissed Judge Moores with a wave of his hand. “Can the witness please refrain from using ASL as a method of communication? Please write your response and hand this to the bailiff.”

Castiel scowled and Dean felt a thread of annoyance tug at his chest. Logically, he understood the judge’s request, but Castiel was just learning how to communicate for himself without the use of a pen and signing allowed him to keep up with the pace of the conversation. It couldn’t be pleasant having to write down every question or reply he ever had. There must be so much he wanted to say but didn’t have the time nor patience to put on paper.

Dean’s heart constricted at the thought. How many people would grow bored waiting for Castiel to finish writing what he had to say? How many people wouldn’t include him in conversations because it was too much hassle to _read_ his thoughts? How many conversations would be over by the time he had penned his opinions?

Dispirited, Castiel wrote his response and the bailiff repeated Dean’s translation.

“Was this the first time Mr. Ketch assaulted you?” Sam asked, oblivious to Dean internal monologue.

Castiel shook his head.

“Can you please give the court some examples of other attacks?”

Castiel scratched his reply into the pad, quick and messy.

The next half an hour was spent informing the court of the same material that Sam had discussed with Castiel over the weekend. Dean had no desire to listen to the horrors all over again and he had to restrain himself from whisking Castiel into a bathroom as he watched the angel’s gaze turn suspiciously glassy and his wings begin to plaster against his back. Instead, Dean directed his gaze to Samandriel and bit back a whine at the little omega’s trembling and the way he was hunched over, face buried in his hands.

When Castiel had finished answering the question about the sort of abuse customers inflicted upon him and his son, Sam turned to the judge.

“I have no more questions for this witness, your honour,” he said softly, unwilling to break the tension in the atmosphere. There was a repulsive stench in the air – a thick soup of horror and disgust and empathy, and at the heart of it all, Dean could smell Castiel’s emotional exhaustion.

“Ms. Fuego, do you have any questions for the witness?” Judge Moores asked.

Abaddon paused and for the first time, she seemed uncertain of herself; as though Castiel’s explanations had really driven home the type of monster that she was defending.

Still, Arthur Ketch was paying her a small fortune.

“I do, your honour,” she hummed before standing and approaching the witness stand. Castiel eyed her warily and recoiled a fraction at the strong scent of her spicy perfume.

“Mr. Novak, did the defendant give you access to clean drinking water?”

Castiel frowned and nodded slowly.

“Did he give you clean clothes and a bed to sleep on?”

Once again Castiel nodded.

“And he fed and sheltered you from the outside elements?”

Castiel hesitated, then nodded.

“Did he give you a toilet and a place to wash yourself?”

Another nod.

Abaddon smiled. “So, you had facilities available to you and Mr. Ketch was therefore not in breech of the part of his contract that states he must provide for the residents within his care. Let me ask you another question, Mr. Novak. Did the defendant ever sexually assault you personally?”

Castiel scowled and eventually shook his head.

“I see,” purred Abaddon. “Let’s move on from your time with the defendant. You later resided in a lovely place named ‘Helen’s Hostel for Refugees’, where angels and demons are taught Earthen languages, culture and are shown how to properly socialise with one another and humans. I believe you were isolated from the main floors. Please tell the court which part of the hostel you were confined to.”

Dean closed his eyes when the bailiff read out “’The isolation unit.’”

“And why was that, Mr. Novak?” Abaddon asked.

The bailiff waited for the new note. “’I attacked staff members.’”

“Hospitalising a young woman,” agreed Abaddon and then, with a cruel upturn of her lips, “You were deemed a danger to society. In fact, your papers say that you weren’t cleared for the Indentured Servitude programme at all and that the hostel was planning to send you to a rehabilitation facility for patients with severe psychological issues.”

She returned to her desk and opened a file, retrieving a small wad of official-looking documents. She passed them to the judge.

“Severe psychological issues,” repeated Abaddon pointedly, smiling when the jury began scribbling notes hastily. “Are there any witnesses, other than your son, who can confirm all you’ve claimed is correct? You say all these alphas and betas raped you under the defendant’s care, so then why did not one person ever report anything amiss in five years? The house you were supposedly trapped in wasn’t situated within a desolate field. You lived in a village and people passed by the house every day, whether walking or in cars or even buses. Didn’t you ever try to escape? Or shout, before you lost your voice?”

Dean watched Castiel’s halo speckle with black and he felt his own anger bubble inside him at the implications.

“This is ridiculous! The hostel separated him from his kid for three months. Of course he attacked a few staff members!”

“Silence, Officer,” intoned the judge.

Dean nearly bit out a “ _Detective_ , your honour,” but Sam shot him a stern look so he held his tongue.

Abaddon’s smirk widened and she cast her gaze towards Dean, briefly assessing him before returning her attention to Castiel.

“And that brings us to your new mentor and carer. I was informed that, against recommendation, Dean Winchester signed your papers; the officer assigned to the defendant. The pretty one.”

Gordon pulled a face and Dean narrowed his eyes at Abaddon distrustfully. She smiled innocently.

“I was speaking to Ms. Bela Talbot – an inspector who works for the hostel – and she informed me that she visited you a month or so after you moved in with Dean. She told me that you assaulted Mr. Winchester. Is that correct, Mr. Novak? Bear in mind that Ms. Talbot is in the audience and can be called to the witness stand if the need arises.”

A muscle twitched in Castiel’s jaw and he nodded tightly.

“You did assault Mr. Winchester?” Abaddon asked again, voice like silk.

Castiel nodded minutely.

“Did you assault anyone else? One of Dean’s guests, perhaps?” Abaddon asked, smile not too dissimilar to that of the Cheshire cat’s.

Castiel closed his eyes, offering a defeated nod and Dean’s veins boiled with fury at Abaddon’s taunts.

“He was scared!” Dean hissed. “He had every right to protect himself after what Ketch forced him into!”

“Mr. Winchester!” Judge Moores bellowed. “I will hold you in contempt of court if I hear another word from you!”

Dean snapped his mouth shut and ground his teeth together. He glanced up at Castiel and found his own eyes meeting sky blue ones. The angel stared at him imploringly, a storm of emotions playing about his gaze despite his otherwise expressionless features. Dean swallowed and hoped Castiel understood that he would do all he could to protect the angel from Ketch and Abaddon and anyone else who wanted to label him as a mental case and a violent psychopath.

“As I was saying,” hummed Abaddon. “You’ve violently assaulted many people during your brief period on Earth and you claim that you have been subjected to such horrendous atrocities as rape and sexual extortion. Yet, no one seemed to know about your predicament in all of the five years you stayed with the defendant. Where you trapped in a basement or a bunker of some sort?”

Castiel frowned and shook his head in resignation.

“Were the walls of your prison soundproofed?”

Once again, Castiel shook his head.

Abaddon’s eyebrows drew together in mock confusion. “Well then, I’m afraid I don’t understand any of this. Did you or your son cry for help? Did you shout to be saved? Were there no windows you could have broken out of?”

Castiel was slow to put pen to paper and once he passed his message to the bailiff, he seemed to retreat in on himself, drawing his wings close to his back.

“’The windows were barred with iron so there was no chance of escape. We were held captive on the ground floor and for the first year, we shouted until we grew hoarse. We begged for help when people walked by and we screamed long into the night until Ketch yelled at us to be quiet. By the second year, we realised no one would save us,’” read the bailiff, frowning slightly.

Abaddon shot Castiel a disbelieving look. “So, the entire village just… ignored you? You begged and wailed and despite all that, people just… continued about their daily lives as though they had no idea that there was a man abusing omegas in their neighbourhood?”

Dean stared at Castiel, trying to wrap his head around the idea that the entire village knew about Castiel’s suffering and yet didn’t act; didn’t even call the police. It didn’t sound plausible. Castiel caught Dean’s puzzled gaze and lowered his head in humiliation, obviously convinced that Dean didn’t believe him.

It did sound a little bit ridiculous, actually.

Abaddon crossed her arms. “I find that very difficult to believe, Mr. Novak. How do we know that you aren’t just making this up? You’ve already proven yourself unpredictable and quick to lash out. The hostel recommended psychological rehabilitation. How do we know this isn’t another one of your episodes? Why exactly did you leave Heaven anyway?”

A flash of panic crossed Castiel’s face and Dean blinked at the reaction. He had never actually thought to ask Castiel that question before.

“Objection,” interrupted Sam coldly. “Mr. Novak is a refugee from a war-torn planet. He has no obligation to answer personal questions about his decision to flee Heaven, since such responses could compromise his safety here on Earth.”

“Sustained,” agreed the judge.

Abaddon shot Sam a filthy look and Sam returned her gaze steadily.

Dean licked his lips and flicked his gaze to his brother. He could see that Sam was confused about the situation as well, but his little brother at least seemed determined to defend Castiel as best he could.

“How can we be certain that you haven’t inflicted these wounds upon yourself and made up some sob story to win the empathy of the jury?” Abaddon continued. “How can we be certain that you aren’t trying to frame Mr. Ketch because of some deep-rooted hatred of alphas?”

Castiel grit his teeth and wrote out a new message.

“’Because since staying with Dean, both my son’s and my injuries have begun to heal. We have grown to a healthy weight under Dean’s care and despite not having any training in psychology, Dean has improved our mental wellbeing more than any doctor or hostel staff ever attempted. He is an alpha and yet, both my son and I care for him a great deal and I deeply regret the injuries I inflicted upon him during our first few weeks of meeting.

“Since, you have been speaking with Ms. Talbot, I’m certain that she has informed you of my son’s clearance for the programme, thus proving that he doesn’t belong in a mental institute like I apparently do. So, unless you’re insinuating that I could abuse my own son, I think it’s safe to say that our injuries are not self-inflicted,’” announced the bailiff.

Dean’s lips twitched into a smile. Despite everything he was facing, there was clearly some fight left in the angel.

For the first time, Abaddon looked irritated by Castiel, her cool composure faltering.

“Then how do you explain the lack of reaction to your cries for help?” she asked.

Castiel wrote out a short note.

“’Was the village called ‘Stepford’?’”

A round of stifled chuckles broke the silence of the courtroom and even the judge had to clear the smile from his face.

“Order,” he commanded, tapping the gavel a few times. “Could the witness please refrain from responding with sarcasm?”

Dean’s smile faded as he thought about the movie and its sequel. _Revenge of the Stepford Wives_ had not been as well-received as its original movie, but it had ended with the revelation that all the husbands had been working together to programme their perfect wives. The whole town had kept the conspiracy a secret and no outsiders had suspected that the women were practically shells of their former selves.

Dean’s eyes widened. All jokes aside, maybe Castiel was onto something. It would certainly fit Dean’s theory of the omega trafficking reports being part of a huge operation across the state. Could it be possible that there were villages of omega traffickers and abusers throughout Kansas, all working in cahoots so it appeared as though their villages were perfect examples of the American dream?

More research was needed before he started making accusations like that.

Abaddon glowered at Castiel before an overly pleasant smile broke out over her face. “So, you have no explanation?”

Castiel shot her an unimpressed stare and shook his head.

“No further questions, your honour,” drawled Abaddon before sashaying her way over to her desk.

The judge glanced at Sam. “Any further questions, Mr. Winchester?”

Sam shook his head unhappily and Dean could see the way the corners of his mouth tugged downwards in irritation. Sam sent Castiel a sharp look as he returned to his seat and Castiel averted his gaze. He hadn’t told either Winchester brother about the lack of reaction from his neighbours and now it was possible that Ketch could get an even lighter sentence than they had originally assumed if the jury decided that Castiel was a liar.

“I’d like to call upon a second witness,” said Sam in a tone that made Dean grimace. His brother was going to vent (most likely at him) once they were out of hearing range of the courthouse. “Samandriel Novak; son of Castiel and the second omega to be retrieved from the defendant’s house.”

Samandriel steeled himself before walking towards the witness bench, head held high. Dean’s heart ached. Once again, they made him swear to tell the truth and he took his seat, glancing at Dean briefly before focusing his gaze on Sam.

“I would like to make it known to the court that Mr. Novak is not fluent in English and as such, he will have a court translator seated beside him,” said Sam as a young woman approached the witness bench and took the chair next to Samandriel. He glanced at her warily.

“Mr. Novak,” began Sam, “can you tell the court what conditions you lived in during your time with the man over there?” He gestured towards Ketch.

The young woman began translating the sentence to Enochian and Samandriel looked ready to roll his eyes. He might not have been fluent in English, but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand a single word of the language.

“Like my dad said, we were locked in a bedroom with-”

“Could the witness please speak in a language that he is fluent in?” Judge Moores intoned.

Samandriel snapped his mouth shut as the translator chittered down his ear. He cast his gaze to Dean, seeking reassurance, which Dean openly gave.

“Ca ol Papa gohulim,” Samandriel started again, hesitantly and the young woman barely let him finish the sentence before translating for the court. Still, despite his unhappiness at the arrangement, Samandriel continued with his response and Dean managed to smile at him sadly in hopes that it would provide some sort of comfort.

He spoke of much of the same thing as he and Castiel had over the weekend and Sam asked many of the same questions. They differed towards the end, when Sam was forced to address Samandriel’s relationship with his father.

“Has your dad ever attacked you? Physically or sexually?”

As the young woman translated, Samandriel’s eyes blew wide in alarm. He shook his head frantically.

“No!” he exclaimed before shaking his head again. “Ag!”

Sam nodded, gaze turning apologetic even as his voice remained firm. “So, none of your injuries were caused by him?”

Samandriel shook his head rapidly.

“How would you describe your relationship with your dad? Is he a kind person? Does he spend a lot of time with you or do you prefer to be on your own? Do you feel safe around him?”

Samandriel frowned as the translator whispered into his ear. He glanced at his dad before focusing on Sam and tilting his chin defiantly, ignoring the cruel gaze of Ketch from the defendant’s desk.

 ** _“My father is the bravest, kindest and most selfless man in all of Earth and the Silver City,”_** said Samandriel reverently. **_“He protected me from all those horrible alphas and betas that visited us, even though he knew they’d hurt him. After everything they did to him; after all the ways they hurt him, he stayed strong and held me and promised that everything would be alright because he knew I was scared. When I couldn’t sleep, he’d tell me stories – some about his childhood or his work and others about history or fairy tales._**

**_“When I slept, he wrapped his wings around me and held me close and watched over me. He still does those things now. He used to read to me in the Silver City and now he teaches me math and science. He watches me draw and joins in sometimes and he plays with me whenever I ask – even when he’s hurting or worried._ **

**_“He keeps me safe,”_** murmured Samandriel. **_“He’s always keeping me safe. He teaches me about the world and he protects me and I love him so much. I’ll always love him.”_**

Sam smiled and there were a few softened faces in the audience as the translator repeated everything in English. Castiel gazed at his son with unbridled affection, wings fluttering lightly.

“He’s a good dad, then?” Sam asked warmly.

“The best,” whispered Samandriel.

“Personally, do you think that your dad needs any therapy? For the stuff he’s been through? Do you think he needs to see a doctor?”

Samandriel tilted his head as the translator chirped away. The gesture reminded Dean of Castiel.

 ** _“He… he hurts a lot sometimes,”_** began Samandriel slowly, carefully. **_“And he has nightmares like I do, but he tries to keep them a secret because he doesn’t want me to worry. He… gets scared sometimes too and that’s when he does things he shouldn’t – like lashing out at Dean or the hostel staff.”_**

Samandriel frowned. **_“Everyone thinks that because he can’t talk, he’s like some mindless, angry animal. But people don’t understand that even animals lash out for a reason. They can’t talk so they try to communicate in other ways, but we’re really awful at picking up on all the signs so eventually, they get scared and frustrated and bite or kick or claw us, and we just say that they’re aggressive and violent and they need to be restrained for the safety of everyone else. No one stops to think that maybe those animals did try to warn us that they were frightened before they attacked us._**

**_“My dad’s a little like that. He can’t talk, so he tries to show his feelings and thoughts in other ways – with his wings and his halo and his expressions and all the other tiny gestures he makes every day, but no one ever takes the time to really look at him. They ignore him and don’t even give him a pen to write down his thoughts and then when he gets frustrated and makes bigger gestures, like shoving at people and flaring his wings, they call him ‘dangerous’ and ‘violent’ and they say he needs a doctor.”_ **

Samandriel turned to Dean. **_“But then Dean came along and he really listens and watches and he doesn’t always get it right, but he tries his best and Dad understands and tries to be patient with him. Dean’s learning how to read our body language – it’s hard because he’s human and we have two huge wings stuck to our backs. Angels express loads of things with their wings and halos and Dean has to learn all of that stuff really quickly, whereas angels start learning those sorts of social things when they’re little._**

**_“But he’s trying and it’s the first time I’ve actually felt kind of safe around an alpha. He wants to help us and although it probably doesn’t seem like it sometimes, he really is. Dad’s getting better every day – both physically and mentally, I think. I hope I am too. Dean is… I like staying with Dean. He helps keep our nightmares away.”_ **

Samandriel returned his gaze to Sam. **_“No doctor or hospital could do what Dean’s doing for Dad. For both of us.”_**

Sam’s eyes filled with fondness and he smiled gently at the little angel as the translator finished up.

“Thank you, Mr. Novak,” he said quietly before glancing towards the judge. “No more questions, your honour.”

Judge Moores nodded. “Ms. Fuego?”

Abaddon smiled at Samandriel and the young angel lowered his wings at the flash of too many teeth. She advanced on him slowly and for a moment, it looked as though Samandriel was going to cower, but then he lifted his chin and stared at her coolly.

“Mr. Novak,” she purred like a tigress stalking her prey. “Did you shout for help when you were under the care of the defendant?”

Samandriel frowned. **_“Well obviously.”_**

Abaddon nodded. “Then how would you explain the lack of reaction from all those people in the village?”

Dean bit back a growl. She was going to accuse Samandriel of being a liar as well? A ten-year-old boy who had spent half of his life suffering at the hands of perverted alphas and betas?

Samandriel’s confidence wavered. **_“I… I don’t know.”_**

“If you were to take a guess?” Abaddon smirked.

Samandriel’s wings drew closer to his back. **_“Maybe… they all had headphones on when they walked past the house and they couldn’t hear us?”_**

Abaddon cocked an eyebrow. “Every single one of them? In five years, not a single person removed their headphones when they walked past your house?”

“Ms. Fuego,” said Sam with a scowl. “There’s no need for such a condescending attitude.”

“Quiet, Mr. Winchester,” mumbled the judge. “Ms. Fuego has said nothing against court rules.”

Dean grit his teeth as Samandriel dropped his gaze in embarrassment.

 ** _“Maybe… maybe the whole village already knew and just… didn’t care,”_** tried Samandriel weakly and Abaddon actually scoffed.

“The whole village knew that they were harbouring a local omega abuser and unanimously decided not to take action? I find that incredibly difficult to believe. Mr. Novak, you realise that lying to the court can get you into very serious trouble, don’t you?”

As the translator finished the sentence, Samandriel shrunk in on himself. “I’m not lying.”

“Please do remember to speak in Enochian for the sake of accuracy. We wouldn’t want you accidentally spreading false information, would we, Mr. Novak?” Abaddon said sharply and Samandriel swallowed as his gaze roamed over her intimidating wings and sharp, gazelle-like horns.

 ** _“I’m not lying,”_** he whispered as she approached the witness bench. She smiled at him in the way that sharks smile before opening their mouth to swallow a diver whole.

“Then why did Helen’s Hostel staff believe that your father couldn’t be trusted around you? Their notes say that they separated you for three months because of his hostile tendencies, yet you claim he's not dangerous. And seeing as how neither you nor your father can explain why no one came to rescue you from the defendant’s ‘evil clutches’, I’m afraid we’ll have to leave it up to the jury to decide whether your whole story is a lie or not.”

Samandriel’s halo threaded with white and Dean had had enough.

As Abaddon smirked at Samandriel once more, her chest nearly flush with the witness bench and her red and black wings spread lightly either side of her, Dean growled warningly.

“He’s ten!” Dean snapped. “Leave your intimidation tactics at the bar, Fuego. You’re scaring him!”

“Mr. Winchester!” Judge Moores boomed. “I’ve warned you once already and I’m not prepared to give you a second chance. Get out of my courtroom!”

Dean scowled, fists clenched. He had never been thrown out of court before but there was an unusual fire within him today and he glared at the judge, his scent strengthening in testament to his outrage. He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help it and he bared his teeth slightly at Judge Moores, making the other alpha narrow his eyes.

“Remove yourself from my courtroom,” said the judge lowly and Dean stalked out, an irritating itch surging down his neck and back.

He was fairly placid for an alpha, even though he had sculpted his reputation on being a tough, hardened detective. However, the sight of Abaddon accusing Castiel and Samandriel of being liars made him unreasonably angry and as he prowled out of the courtroom, he took some pleasure in imaging himself throwing punch after punch at the demon’s smug face.

Once the heavy doors closed behind him and he was left standing alone in an empty hall, he frowned at himself. The cool air worked to clear his head and he scratched the itch at his neck. Why hadn’t he just kept his mouth shut? Now Samandriel and Castiel would have to face the courtroom alone and he wouldn’t be there to offer them any reassuring looks.

He had made a fool of himself and the more he thought about it, the lower his head ducked in humiliation. He understood his anger at Abaddon, but why had he bared his teeth at the judge?

He scented himself and recoiled at his own furious stench. What on Earth had he been thinking? He was supposed to be a calm, well-weathered detective and here he was, blowing his lid because an attorney was doing her job by defending her client (however greasy and repulsive her client was, was beside the point).

He sunk down onto a hard, wooden bench and shook his head at himself. Now he had to wait for the session to finish before he found out the verdict and managed to talk to his angels and his brother (whom he was sure would have something insightful to say about his idiotic performance).

He sighed and scratched at another prickle in his leg.

 

*             *             *

 

The doors swung open and Dean leaped up from the bench. He scanned the crowd of people spilling out of the courtroom until his gaze landed on Castiel and Samandriel, and he jogged over to them with a worried frown.

“Are you two alright?” he asked, startling them a little. They blinked at him and began to nod when Sam suddenly gripped Dean’s shoulder. Dean turned to face his scowling brother and suddenly felt the need to puff his chest out a little as he blocked Sam’s view of Castiel and Samandriel.

Sam looked at him in surprised distaste and Dean grimaced and relaxed.

“What was that?” Sam demanded, gesturing to the courtroom. “In fact, what was that?” he asked, gesturing to Dean himself.

Dean rolled his shoulders. “I know I flew off the handle a little-”

“A little?,” scoffed Sam. “You bared your teeth at the judge.”

“It was an accident,” Dean said lamely.

Sam eyed him, unimpressed. “You realise that any sympathy Samandriel may have won over with his story about you was completely ruined by you acting like a jackass?”

Dean winced. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me-”

“Don’t apologise to me,” snapped Sam, and any thoughts Dean might have had about his brother taking it easy on him quickly evaporated. “Apologise to them. They’re the ones with a hung jury.” He gestured to Castiel and Samandriel with a sharp flick of his wrist.

Dean paled. “Hung jury? How can it be a hung jury?”

“Because half of them are convinced that they’re telling the truth, the other half are convinced that they’re lying,” hissed Sam before eying Castiel harshly. “You never told me that people could hear you from outside.”

Castiel scowled and reached for the notepad he had accidentally stolen from the courtroom, but Samandriel was quicker.

“We told you there were windows,” he huffed.

“You told me that they were barred windows and there was no chance of escaping them. I assumed you meant they were boarded up with soundproof material or maybe thick metal and that’s why no one could hear you,” Sam said exasperatedly.

Samandriel tilted his head slightly, unable to translate Sam's words at such a speed.

“Hey, lay off, Sam,” said Dean, eyebrows pinched together. “It was an oversight, alright?”

“Well that oversight coupled with your tantrum could get Ketch deemed innocent,” snapped Sam. “And if that happens, Castiel either gets locked up, or if he’s lucky, he gets to stay on a psychiatric ward for the indefinite future!”

Dean’s eyes widened and a cold sort of fear gripped his heart as Castiel’s wings plastered themselves to his back in a trembling mess of feathers.

“What do you mean he could get locked up?” Dean breathed.

Sam flung his arms out in frustration. “Dean! If Ketch is deemed innocent, Castiel will have wasted police time, lied in court, accused someone of physical and sexual abuse, and then there’ll be inquiries as to whether he has abused Samandriel in order to pull the whole story off!”

“But he didn’t lie!” Dean hissed.

“But his story sounds ridiculous!” Sam yelled.

Castiel and Samandriel’s eyes widened and they stared at Sam in horror, halos blazing with white.

Dean stared at his brother in shock and Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. “Do you really expect the entire jury to believe that a whole village of people heard their cries for help and decided to do nothing about it for five years?”

“Well yeah, because that’s what happened,” huffed Dean.

“And what are you basing that fact off?” Sam insisted. “Your friendship with two angels you barely know anything about? We need evidence, Dean. Abaddon’s right – their story doesn’t add up.”

Dean growled deep in his chest before he could stop himself, the fiery itch at the back of his neck returning. Sam’s eyes widened and he held his hands up placatingly as he took a step backwards. He wrinkled his nose at Dean’s sour scent.

“So what? You don’t believe them? They’re lying and you’re going to take Abaddon’s side?” Dean snarled as Castiel and Samandriel stared at Sam in fear.

Sam frowned and shook his head. “What? No. I never said that – I said we need more evidence. The jury’s hung and that gives us a bit more time to strengthen our case.” Sam paused and eyed Dean warily. “Dude. Seriously. What’s gotten into you? You’re not usually this hot-headed.”

Dean blinked and realised he was baring his teeth at his brother, fists clenched. He straightened into a more relaxed position and shook his head, scratching the itch at his neck.

“I… I don’t know,” he mumbled. He looked up at his brother almost desperately. “You are gonna keep fighting for Cas and Samandriel though, right?”

Sam looked utterly confused. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

Dean deflated and ran a hand through his hair. He felt uncomfortably warm.

“Maybe the whole village is in on it,” he mused quietly and Sam cocked an eyebrow.

“Dean, that’s-”

“No, hear me out. The station is moving onto the line of thinking that the Red Devil situation is actually a huge, state-wide operation. There are the transporters, the sales people, the secretaries, bosses, etcetera, etcetera. Ketch was one of the sales people. He sold sex. Suzy, the name the house was under, is his co-worker or maybe a sort-of project manager. But what if he wasn’t the only sales person on the block? I mean, when you go shopping, there isn’t just one store surrounded by houses. There’s a line of stores to give you more choice. What if the entire village was the line of stores?”

Sam frowned thoughtfully. “You think the whole village was part of the operation? Like, they were all covering for one another?”

“Think about it,” said Dean, scratching his arm. “Little villages scattered throughout the state – all part of the Red Devil operation. Sticking omegas in a house in the middle of a town or a city doesn’t make sense because tourists or other residents are bound to find out and inform the police, but get a whole village in on it…”

“Tourists don’t visit villages,” said Sam as the epiphany struck. “And far fewer people in a village compared to a town or city, so it’s easier to keep a secret.”

Dean nodded. “The entire village could work together to keep the operation up and no one would suspect a thing.”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “That’s… a huge accusation. What made you come up with that idea?”

“Cas,” said Dean as he turned to said angel. “He made a joke about the village being called Stepford.”

“Stepford wives,” cried Sam in realisation as he stared at the angel. He paused at the look on Castiel’s face. “…Wait… is that what you were thinking? Is that why you made the joke?”

Castiel glanced between Sam and Dean and shrugged weakly before nodding.

Dean slapped his brother’s arm with an excited shout, gaze directed at Castiel. “You were a detective in Eden!”

Castiel pulled a strange face before nodding slowly and Sam gaped at him.

“Wait, what?”

Dean dismissed his brother with a wave of his hand. “Three heads are better than two,” he grinned. “Cas, you and Samandriel aren’t the only omegas the KPD have rescued this past year. There’s been a series of omega kidnappings state-wide; some used as slave labour, some used as breeders, and some kept in the same conditions that you were. The only thing that links them all is that whenever they’re kidnapped or thrown out onto the streets dead or nearly there, the people roughhousing them wear all red. We call them ‘Red Devils’ and they only ever take omega angels and demons.”

“…Should you really be telling him all this? In a public place?” Sam whispered, once again silenced by Dean’s hand.

Castiel tilted his head, a frown perched on his features. His hands suddenly burst into action.

 _'Any demons or angels in red?’_ he signed.

Dean’s brain took a moment to catch up. “You mean do demons and angels take the omegas?”

Castiel nodded.

“Sometimes,” said Dean.

Castiel glanced at the courtroom for a few moments, contemplating the information. Then he began to fingerspell a name.

_‘F-U-E-G-O.’_

Dean frowned, but then the expression cleared and he straightened. “She’s tattooed her wings half red,” he whispered.

“What? Who?” asked Sam, sounding entirely lost as he stared blankly at Castiel's hands.

“Abaddon,” said Dean, glaring at his brother. “And she’s an alpha. That’s why she’s defending Ketch – she’s in on the operation too.”

Sam shook his head. “Dean, just hold on a minute. That’s a hefty accusation and you have no evidence. I know I don’t like Abaddon, but she’s a good lawyer, if a little ruthless. Do you really think she has the time to pull something like this off? She’s up to her eyes in cases and paperwork the same as I am.” He placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Just because she’s defending the bad guy, doesn’t mean she is the bad guy.”

Dean slumped and forced himself to calm down. He wasn’t usually this brash. He shook his head at Castiel.

“Sam’s right. We can’t just start pointing fingers at people.”

Castiel frowned a little but otherwise made no movement to add to the conversation.

“Go home,” Sam said softly, squeezing his brother’s shoulder. “Get Castiel and Samandriel settled and work through… whatever it is that’s going on with you. I’ll talk to Victor about getting someone to look into the village tonight.”

Dean nodded slowly, scratching at his leg frustratedly. “Get him to send Benny or one of the other tougher alphas. I don’t trust that village and I don’t want anyone getting hurt or kidnapped or something. Don’t let him send any omegas!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure. Go home, Dean. And take a shower. You reek.”

“I mean it! If that whole village is kidnapping omegas and Vic sends in one of the young omega recruits, I’ll-”

“Dude. Go home.”

Dean’s jaw clicked shut and he glared at the floor for a moment before shuffling off towards the Impala, his angels in tow.

Once they settled into the car and Dean had found a suitable ACDC tape that reflected his mood, he noticed his passengers were oddly still and silent. He observed them from the corner of his eye until the courthouse vanished from the rear-view mirror. “…You two alright?”

Castiel’s gaze snapped to him and he looked surprised, maybe even a little nervous. Dean checked his halo. Definitely nervous.

“I’m sorry for flying off the handle,” he said earnestly. “I didn’t mean to make such a mess of things.” He ducked his head slightly. “We’ll get this sorted, guys. I promise. You’re not getting thrown behind bars or tossed into some hospital. I won’t let that happen.”

 ** _“You believe us, don’t you, Dean?”_** Samandriel blurted suddenly, tone a fraction desperate.

Dean whipped his head around so fast that the car swerved and he nearly got whiplash from swivelling his head back around to the road.

“Huh? About what?”

Samandriel leaned forward, voice panicked. **_“About Ketch! About everything we said in court! You believe us, don’t you? You don’t think we’re making it all up? You don’t think that my dad… that he’s actually… insane or something?”_**

Dean startled at Samandriel’s stuttering breath and he cast a brief glance towards the young angel. **_“Your dad is the sanest person I know. And why on Earth would I think you were lying? Just because the jury’s stupid, it doesn’t mean I am.”_**

Honestly, Dean couldn’t understand how anyone could take Ketch’s word over his angels’. Why couldn’t they see that the man was a filthy, compulsive liar?

The car fell quiet and Dean risked a glance towards Castiel. The older angel was staring at him with unadulterated relief and gratitude and Dean realised that the courtroom had done a real number on both omegas.

 _‘Thank you,’_ Castiel signed and Dean liked the new method of communication because it conveyed far more emotion than a piece of paper.

He smiled and focused on the road again. A few minutes later, he wrinkled his nose. “Do I really smell that bad?”

Samandriel nodded as Castiel shook his head.

Dean frowned at the conflicting responses and decided he should probably have a shower anyway, if only to cease the annoying itching.

 

*             *             *

 

It was much later, long after Dean’s shower and an early dinner, that Dean found himself watching old reruns of _Star Trek_ with his angels either side of him. The moon was high in the sky and the crickets sang noisily outside and Dean couldn’t remember when the sun had set, but the house had been plunged into darkness at some point and the TV was the only source of illumination in the living room.

It was warm and a little bit cosy and Dean was, for once, quite happy. The scents of his omegas danced through the air and Dean realised that he was beginning to associate those smells with thoughts of home and contentedness. He relaxed into the couch and allowed a small smile to slip over his features. He scratched his neck idly as Spock was slapped by his mother.

A small body leaned into his side and he looked down to find Samandriel snuggling into him with a sleepy yawn. Dean’s gaze softened and he smoothed a palm over a speckled wing, watching it lean into his touch.

“Can we sleep with you tonight?” Samandriel asked quietly, fingers curling into Dean’s shirt.

“Course you can,” Dean whispered, running his fingers through silky feathers as his chest swelled with happiness. He manipulated flight muscles gently. “You both did so well today facing Ketch like that. I’m so proud of you.”

Samandriel looked down sadly. “I wish they believed us. They all think we’re lying.”

“Then they’re all idiots,” whispered Dean as he snaked an arm around Samandriel. “And we’ll show them that they’re wrong.”

Samandriel smiled up at him and settled against his side as he focused on the TV.

A few minutes later, Dean found his free hand wandering into Castiel’s feathers. He smoothed the stresses of the day away and watched Castiel practically melt beneath his fingertips. He smiled in amusement at the angel’s half-lidded eyes.

“We’re going to win this,” Dean murmured as he watched Castiel roll his shoulders. “I promise. I won’t let them take you.”

Castiel eyed him curiously for a moment before slowly inching closer. He let his head fall onto Dean’s shoulder and closed his eyes, body slumping with exhaustion. Dean curled his arm around him with a pleased smile.

An itch raced over his stomach and down his thighs and he scowled at the inconvenience.

Castiel shifted and gently nosed at his neck, scenting happily. Dean startled a little but tilted his head to offer the angel more access. He felt Castiel smile and raised his eyebrows as the omega shoved his nose deeper into his neck. He huffed in amusement as Castiel’s arm slithered around his stomach and he began nuzzling at his jaw enthusiastically.

“Do I smell good or something?” Dean asked quietly, lips quirking upwards when Castiel recoiled in surprise at his own actions. He kept his arm firmly around the angel’s middle and refused to let Castiel wriggle too far away from him. “It’s alright, man. I don’t mind.” Which was weird, really, because he had never had any interest in men before; omega or not.

Not that he was interested in Castiel.

Castiel stared at him with those huge, expressive eyes of his before slowly returning to Dean’s neck and beginning to scent at him again. Dean closed his eyes with a soft chuckle.

“So, I definitely smell good?”

Castiel nuzzled his shoulder in response.

Dean rubbed tiny circles into Castiel’s stomach with his thumb and the omega pressed a little closer, removing his hand from Dean’s shirt to slot it over Dean’s own hand. He guided Dean into rubbing larger circles with his whole palm, before playing his fingers over Dean’s stomach once more.

Dean frowned and cracked an eye open to glance at Castiel’s halo. “You okay?” he asked at the spots of purple.

Castiel pulled a face and nodded slowly, rolling his shoulders again in what Dean was starting question as an attempt to resolve an ache in his muscles.

He rubbed Castiel’s stomach with large, slow circles and was rewarded with a relieved sigh and another round of scenting. Come to think of it, Castiel smelled amazing tonight. Dean subtly sniffed the air and suddenly couldn’t get enough of the angel's familiar sweet and salty tang. He couldn’t remember ever smelling something so divine.

He felt unusually warm tonight. Had he put the heating on by mistake?

Castiel rolled his shoulders again and Dean flicked his gaze to his halo, which had become spattered with purple.

“Hey, you alright?” asked Dean worriedly and Castiel pulled a face again and shifted uncomfortably in his seat once he had pulled away from Dean’s neck. He shook his head in obvious dismissal and smiled when Dean continued to rub his stomach.

They stared at one another for a few moments, their faces obscured slightly by the darkness of the room, and Dean couldn’t help but grin in amusement at the angel as _Star Trek_ ’s dramatic trumpet sequences broke the silence. A slow grin crept across Castiel’s face in return and he curled his fingers into Dean’s shirt without noticing.

The itch in Dean’s stomach flared into a burn that streaked between his thighs and Dean scowled and cast his gaze downwards.

Only to be met with the sight of a rather noticeable tent in his jeans.

“Crap,” groaned Dean as he let his head thunk against the back of the couch. Suddenly, all the itching and rise in temperature and the hot-headedness from earlier in the day made sense. He glanced at Castiel apologetically. “I think I’ve started a rut.”

Castiel’s eyes blew wide and he scrambled out of Dean’s hold (much to the alpha’s disappointment) and plastered himself to the arm of the sofa. On his other side, Samandriel shot out of his grip – evidently not as asleep as he appeared – and nearly fell off the cushion in his attempt to put as much distance between himself and Dean as possible.

Dean glanced at them both in hurt confusion. “What have I done now?”

The white halos finally registered at the back of his mind and he frowned down at the tent in his jeans. He inhaled sharply in horror and whipped his gaze back up to the angels.

"Wait, I would never- Guys. I’m not gonna hurt you. It’s just a rut – I have two each year like everyone else and they usually last a couple of weeks. I might be a bit more hard-headed than usual and I’ll most likely stink more than I already do and you’ll probably find me fiddling with the thermostat at ass-o’clock in the morning, but I’m still me. I promise I’m not gonna hurt you. I’ll never hurt you.”

Castiel blinked at Dean and slowly began to peel himself off the arm of the sofa. He eyed Dean suspiciously and the alpha held his hands out placatingly before frowning and scratching at his palm.

“The itching’s a bitch though.” He paused and looked down at his crotch. “Also, I apologise for the boner. Give it a sec, it’ll go away.”

Castiel perched himself awkwardly on the edge of his seat and flicked his gaze to Samandriel worriedly.

Dean continued to glare at his crotch until his erection wilted in disappointment.

“There we go,” said Dean, satisfied. He leaned back against the couch and watched the angels cautiously return to their seats. They still looked nervous, so Dean smiled at them and returned his focus to the TV, internally praying that he hadn’t freaked them out too much.

They didn’t return to his sides, which Dean was rather dismayed by, but Samandriel trusted him enough at least to fall asleep curled into the corner of the couch as the next episode of _Star Trek_ reached its third advert break. Castiel’s gaze kept flicking to his son protectively and Dean made sure to keep his hands to himself as he watched TV, unwilling to scare the angels any more than he already had.

The notion proved difficult when Castiel’s halo began to thread with purple once more, its white shine having faded to silver over the past half an hour. When Castiel began to visibly wince as he hunched over slightly, his scent growing bitter, Dean couldn’t help himself. He slipped an arm around the angel and resumed rubbing his stomach with large, soothing circles and at first, Castiel tensed, halo flashing white in alarm.

“Easy,” whispered Dean. “I can see you’re in pain. Want a paracetamol?”

Castiel stared at him but eventually, he shook his head as his breathing evened out and he relaxed into the couch warily, allowing Dean to continue.

A few minutes later and Castiel had managed to subtly close the distance between them both and rest his head on Dean’s shoulder once more. Dean leaned his chin against soft tufts of hair.

“I can get you a tea, if you’d like? Don’t think we have any tonic water.”

Castiel began to nuzzle his shoulder, scenting contentedly. Dean gently squeezed him and, unable to help himself, nosed at his hair. Genuinely, the angel had the most delightful scent seeping from his pores.

Gingerly, Castiel slipped his arms around Dean, clinging to him as he shifted to scent at his neck instead. The alpha began to frown, realising something felt wrong about the omega’s sudden tactile behaviour.

“Cas?” Dean breathed. “You alright?” He glanced at the angel’s halo, watching it swirl with silver, white and purple. Something was definitely wrong.

The omega pulled away sharply, looking confused and maybe slightly frightened of his own actions. He stared at Dean with wide, helpless eyes and abruptly frowned before glancing down at his own crotch. He stiffened and practically hurled himself to the other end of the couch again, eyes impossibly round and fearful as he met Dean’s gaze.

Dean let his gaze fall to Castiel’s crotch and before the omega closed his legs tightly, he caught sight of the wetness staining his trousers.

Dean’s expression softened with sympathy. “You’re in heat? Is that my fault?”

Castiel’s wings were trembling and his halo was a chaotic disaster of white and purple. He looked ready to bolt.

“It’s alright, Cas,” Dean soothed. “I’ve got a few pads lying around somewhere. How about you clean yourself up, get changed into your PJs and I’ll find a pad for you. Afterwards, I’ll make you a nice cup of tea and you can take a paracetamol for the stomach pain. I have a hot water bottle too, if you want one, but it might make you a bit warm through the night if you sleep with it.”

Castiel swallowed thickly and refused to take his eyes off Dean, so the alpha stood and stretched before sauntering out of the room in search of the pads that had originally been Lisa’s. She was a beta, so she had periods instead of heats, but the pads were useful for both and Dean had kept them around in case Gabriel was ever caught short on one of his visits, which he had been on a couple of occasions.

When he finally found the small pack, he swiped the entire thing and made a mental note to buy some more on his next shopping spree. He returned from the bathroom and heard Castiel shuffling around his room, so he placed the pack and a strip of paracetamol tablets outside the door and knocked quietly. “Pads are just outside your door,” he called gently before shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way towards the kitchen.

A little while later, Castiel emerged from the bedroom in his sleepwear, looking awkward and nervous as he hovered in the middle of the living room. Dean had finally switched on the lights and a steaming mug of sweet tea occupied the otherwise empty coffee table. Dean himself was perched on the smaller couch, leaving Samandriel to stretch out over the larger one. He smiled warmly at Castiel.

“Better? Did you want the bottle?”

Castiel glanced between Dean, his sleeping son and the tea. He licked his lips and shook his head before taking a deep breath and gliding over. He sipped from the tea and after a moment of hesitation, plopped onto the cushion beside Dean, where he proceeded to cuddle into the alpha’s side with his mug clenched between his hands and his eyes closed in obvious relief.

Cocking an eyebrow, Dean automatically wrapped an arm around the angel and smoothed his palm over his stomach.

“Rough day, wasn’t it?” Dean whispered after a few moments of peace and Castiel nodded slowly and took another sip of tea.

“You know ruts don’t turn alphas into mindless monsters, don’t you?” Dean continued quietly. “You have to be a pretty sick individual to go into rut and suddenly have the urge to knot an omega bloody. Normal people don’t think like that.”

Castiel paused and looked up at Dean curiously.

“Even when the omega’s in heat and the alpha’s in rut, normal alphas aren’t determined to cause the omega pain. They don’t try to torture the omega until they’re a crying, traumatised, slick-and-blood-soaked mess.” Dean smiled sadly. “Quite the opposite really. In fact, lots of alphas become pretty affectionate during their ruts. They’d do anything to keep their partner happy and they become a little, well… soft. Sure, we all get a bit lusty and sometimes we might overstep our boundaries a little in the touchy-feely department, but normal alphas in rut will back down at a firm ‘no’. We want someone who cares for us too – it doesn’t feel great to be taken advantage of and we definitely don’t want to hurt anyone because of a few extra hormones.”

Castiel tilted his head and blinked at Dean, absorbing the new information. Dean frowned lightly and used his free hand to smooth a few wayward feathers into place.

“The alphas at Ketch’s place? They were cruel and disgusting. They weren’t normal alphas.”

Castiel contemplated this for a few moments before gingerly nodding and snuggling into Dean’s chest. He grasped Dean’s hands and guided them to his wings, showing him how he wanted his feathers playing with and his flight muscles massaging. Dean chuckled warmly and did as told, resting his chin atop Castiel’s head.

“I take it that you’re a touchy-feely omega when you’re in heat, then?”

In response, Castiel scented at Dean’s neck and the alpha hummed happily. The right scent did a lot to soothe omegas and alphas in heat or rut and whilst Castiel certainly had an absolutely wonderful aroma, Dean was pleased to note that his own scent held at least something pleasurable for the omega.

“You know you’re always safe with me, right?” Dean mumbled. “Rut or not, you and Samandriel are perfectly safe.”

Castiel smiled hesitantly against his skin and sighed when Dean did something particularly clever with his fingers.

“Don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but you’re welcome in my bed any time. If my scent helps, I mean. Don’t think that just because I’m in rut and you’re in heat, you and Samandriel can’t come in.” When Castiel stared at him uncomfortably, Dean shrugged awkwardly. “I mean, if you guys have nightmares or anything, you’re still welcome to stay with me. I’m in rut but I can keep my hands to myself.” He dropped his gaze to the floor. “And, y’know… heats and ruts run smoother with certain scents. With us both marinating in extra hormones and all, I just thought that we could help each other out a little. It’s not like you seem to have any problems with shoving your nose into my throat when we’re like this, so I can’t see any harm in doing it in your sleep.”

Dean refused to meet Castiel’s gaze as his cheeks burned pink. He couldn’t deny that the thought of sleeping between Castiel and Samandriel was an appealing one to his rut-addled brain – he was, after all, the type of alpha who adored being surrounded by family and friends – but that didn’t mean this particular topic of conversation was any less humiliating, especially when Dean had built his reputation around being the type of man his father had tried to mould him into. The type of man that didn’t yearn for a quiet night in and a lengthy snuggle with another man and his kid.

He could feel Castiel staring at the side of his face, head tilted in a bird-like expression. He glanced briefly to the snoring Samandriel before licking his lips nervously and suddenly pushing Dean’s back against the couch. Dean blinked up at him curiously before his eyes widened as Castiel abruptly perched on his lap and began mouthing at his jaw.

“Cas-” Dean began and then his brain crashed to a halt when Castiel began humping his suddenly very-awake crotch.

Dean’s jaw worked open and closed for a moment, no sound escaping, so Castiel took the opportunity to begin unbuttoning the alpha’s shirt as he rubbed himself against Dean’s stiffening length.

For a second, Dean was overwhelmed by the sensations and the scent of his angel in heat and his hips jerked upwards slightly as Castiel nipped at his throat. Then logic took over and he shoved the angel off him unceremoniously and frowned, feeling strangely betrayed as his shirt fell half-open.

“What are you doing?” Dean demanded.

Castiel frowned, wings tucking low behind his back. His hands moved slowly, uncertainly.

 _’You are kind alpha. I…’_ His movements faltered slightly and he winced. _’I help you.’_

He reached out towards Dean’s tented jeans and Dean jerked backwards as though burned.

“Haven’t you heard a word I’ve just said?” he hissed. “Ruts don’t make us mindless knotting machines! I don’t want you to have sex with me because you feel like… I don’t know… like you owe me or something!”

Castiel shook his head. _‘You said,’_ he gestured, frustrated by his own limited signing skills.

Dean grit his teeth. “I never said anything like that!” he snapped angrily. “I’m not one of Ketch’s clients! I thought we established that I don’t want sex from you whilst you’re staying here? I thought we were past this!”

Castiel began to move his hands again before he narrowed his eyes and stood up sharply. He stalked into the kitchen and returned with a notepad and pen and promptly wrote Dean a message.

 

_You said that I was welcome in your bed whilst you were in rut and that we could ‘help each other out’. What other meaning could that have?_

“For a cuddle!” Dean growled before he could stop himself.

Castiel’s eyes rounded and Dean’s cheeks reddened as he realised what he had admitted to. Well, no going back now – time for an unsubtle subject change.

“And why are you offering me sex anyway? Thought you hated being knotted by alphas in rut? I mean, I get that you didn’t have a choice before, but you’ve already overpowered me twice already since coming here; it’s not like I could exactly force you into doing anything.”

Castiel’s mouth tugged downwards and he wrote a new note.

 

_Apologies if my previous experiences with alphas in rut offend your delicate sensibilities. I’m accustomed to pleasing alphas in order to discourage them from beating me and my son half to death. I assumed your ‘invitation’ was a request for my services._

_Never have I been asked by a rut-driven alpha to… cuddle. Strangely enough, it’s not something clients ever request from an omega whore._

Dean grimaced at the sarcasm saturating the page, but he still managed to look a little offended as he glared at Castiel.

“Forget I asked,” he huffed moodily. “I was only trying to help. Thought it would be nice,” he mumbled to himself as he looked away in poorly-concealed shame, tips of his ears burning pink.

Another note was thrust into his hands.

 

_You’re a very weird alpha._

Dean pouted childishly at the note and was about to attempt to scrape what was left of his dignity from the floor, when suddenly a pair of huge, black wings curled around him and tugged him towards Castiel’s chest.

He yelped in surprise but quickly melted into the embrace as Castiel wrapped his arms around his middle and began scenting his neck once more. Dean practically mewled and flexed his hands in the angel’s feathers, scenting back.

“Dude, you smell so much better than Lisa,” muttered Dean without engaging his brain-to-mouth filter.

Castiel’s feathers fluffed up and he tugged Dean tighter to his chest and rested his chin atop the alpha’s head, allowing Dean to scent him to his heart’s delight.

He glanced over to Samandriel and quirked his lips at the way the young boy was peering at them through one almost-closed eye. So much for being asleep.

“You’re not a whore,” Dean whispered against Castiel’s shoulder, combing his fingers through silky feathers. “I wish you wouldn’t think like that.”

Castiel nuzzled his hair gingerly and tightened his grip on the alpha a fraction.

“You’re smart and strong and you’ve raised an awesome kid.” Dean watched Samandriel’s mouth twitch at the praise and he grinned in amusement before smoothing a hand down the bone of an onyx wing. “We’re gonna get this mess sorted; Ketch’ll get locked up, the omega trafficking will get shut down, you’re gonna heal, and then you’ll be free to live your own life with Samandriel and you’ll both be safe. I promise everything’s gonna be okay. I’ll make it okay.”

Castiel pulled away and stared at him hopefully. He curled his fingers into Dean’s open shirt and his halo began to sparkle with gold flakes, gaze bright and maybe a little glassy. He cocooned Dean in feathers and scribbled out a new note.

 

_I want to stay with you tonight._

Dean reread the letter twice before beaming at the angel and squeezing him gently. “You sure you can put up with my stink?” he teased.

Castiel smiled and handed him a reply.

 

_Your ‘stink’ is most appealing. It helps to dull the heat pains. You should also continue massaging my wings. That's rather nice too._

Dean barked out a laugh and dug the heel of his palm into a thick flight muscle. Castiel’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Yeah, you’re helping with rut itches too,” Dean hummed as he watched Castiel’s halo glow more golden. “You should really teach me how to groom your wings properly.”

Castiel peeked at him through one half-lidded eye and proceeded to write a response with his eyes shut. Dean read the wonky message with a huffed chuckle.

 

_Maybe tomorrow. I’d like to go to bed. Today has been exhausting._

Dean’s gaze softened and he toyed with a patch of feathers. “Alright, c’mon. Let’s get you guys to bed.” He untangled himself from the angel and stood, stretching the kinks out of his back as he did so. He held out a hand for Castiel and pulled the omega to his feet before shuffling over to Samandriel and gently picking him up bridal style.

“I am awake,” Samandriel mumbled, wriggling a little in Dean’s grip.

“No, you’re not,” said Dean as he marched towards his bedroom.

Samandriel huffed in amusement and leaned into Dean’s chest, previous fear of an alpha in rut forgotten. “You’re so weird.”

Dean deposited him on the bed and held the duvet aside for Castiel. Something strange happened in his chest when Castiel scented deeply at his pillows, snuggling happily into Dean’s mattress with a small smile and a flutter of wings.

Well. That wasn’t at all adorable.

“I’ll uh… I’ll just get changed outside. I’ll throw Samandriel’s PJ’s in as well,” said Dean, stumbling over his words slightly at the warm feelings he was experiencing at the sight of two contented angels tucked under his covers as though they belonged there.

He slithered outside with his own nightwear and poked around the angels’ room for Samandriel’s, before tossing the small clothes into his bedroom. When he returned, clad in his most comfortable pyjamas, he cautiously slipped into bed behind Castiel and when neither angel showed any signs of discomfort, he slid his arm around them both.

Castiel shifted his wings slightly and wriggled until his back was pressed into Dean’s chest and he tilted his head forwards, allowing Dean to slot his nose into the back of his neck.

Within seconds, both Castiel and Samandriel were fast asleep.

Dean held them both a little closer, an overwhelming wave of protectiveness washing over him as he watched them sleep in each other’s arms. He didn’t think he had ever seen them sleep so peacefully.

Logically, he knew his rut was affecting his emotions; he was focused on their happiness and wellbeing more so than usual and Castiel’s heat wasn’t helping matters.

Still, he didn’t see any harm in a sleepy cuddle with the two omegas he was quickly growing attached to and as long as they weren’t uncomfortable, he might as well use his rut as an excuse to dote on them a little bit. Maybe having someone to focus on would even speed his rut along.

He smiled to himself and nuzzled Castiel’s neck happily. He could already feel that this rut wasn’t going to be as frustrating as the ones he had spent alone, grieving the loss of Lisa’s love.

Maybe he would even enjoy this rut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super long chapter since I've not updated in so long ;) Ooo fluff! (Also, I realise the court proceedings were probably wildly inaccurate, but... well, it's just a story ;) )


	14. Grooming

_Dinner had been a pleasurable affair, filled with flavoursome food, rich drink and good company. The restaurant had been small and dimly-lit, but the atmosphere was cosy and a quiet jazz band had crammed themselves into the corner of the room, looking quite content with their lot despite the loud whir of the coffee machine._

_Dinner had led to an impromptu round of dancing around the busy bar, which had somehow morphed into a leisurely stroll through the park as the moon floated higher and higher into the sky._

_Bushes rustled and creatures cooed and chirped from their nests and dens. A few plants shrunk back at their close proximity, whilst others glowed dimly under the inky sky, providing a little illumination for the otherwise dark park._

_Castiel found himself watching Hannah’s delicate features as she pointed out beautiful flowers and speedy critters. She truly was the most gorgeous person he had ever laid eyes upon and he couldn’t help the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth as she chattered on about some fluttering creature with bright purple plumage and three sets of eyes._

_“Do you think you’ll ever want a fledgling?” Hannah asked as she gazed at a squirrel-like creature with huge, sparkling eyes, surrounded by a litter of smaller squirrel-like creatures without any fur or teeth._

_Castiel wrinkled his nose at the abrupt question. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m not all that fond of fledglings.”_

_Hannah stood upright and stared at him with a pleased grin. “Same here. I’ll never understand why people have the urge to make babies. They cry, eat, poop themselves and throw tantrums. Where’s the appeal?”_

_Castiel chuckled, an imaginary weight lifting from his chest at the realisation that he had found someone who shared his thoughts. “Right? They exhaust everyone around them and as they get older, they only grow worse. Fledglings get into all sorts of trouble and younglings become outright rude and moody. I don’t want to lose eighteen years of my life to a bratty, spoiled mini-me.”_

_Hannah laughed and the sound reminded Castiel of Summer rain. “I honestly couldn’t imagine trying to take care of a nine-year-old me,” she said. “I was such a fussy fledgling. I never did anything my parents asked.”_

_“I used to get into fights with alphas and betas all the time when I turned fifteen,” said Castiel with an exasperated shake of his head. “All the catcalling and leering used to upset me so much that eventually, I just hit anyone I caught. My parents used to get so cross with me, but I ignored them until one day, I was expelled from school.”_

_Hannah frowned in sympathy. “That’s horrible. I hate how they never reprimand the alphas or betas at fault – they always blame the omega on the receiving end.”_

_Castiel’s gaze softened. “I suppose you experienced something similar? Especially being as stunning as you are.”_

_Hannah’s cheeks tinged pink and her gaze fell before working its way back up to Castiel’s face again. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I didn’t hit mine,” she said quietly. “I usually just hid in classrooms or at home so I wouldn’t have to look at them. My attendance was appalling. It was worse when I started having heats.”_

_Castiel grimaced, remembering those days well. “I lost count of how many times I was pinned up against a wall or cornered by a gang of hormonal younglings. Sometimes adults used to chase me through alleyways and I think those times scared me the most because I knew I would struggle to fight them off.”_

_Hannah’s wings tucked close to her back. “Alphas are the worst,” she mumbled._

_“Betas aren’t much nicer,” sighed Castiel, carefully reaching out a wing to curl around her. She pressed into his side willingly and he combed his fingers through her ruffled feathers._

_“Imagine having an omega child,” whispered Hannah with a shudder. “Imagine letting them go through all that and just telling them that it’s the way the world is.”_

_Castiel shook his head. “Imagine telling them that they’ll never be respected or paid as high as alphas and betas. Imagine telling them that their dreams don’t matter because they’ll never become a healer or a politician or a scientist because omegas aren’t allowed to become those things – they’re meant to stay at home to take care of the house and the children and their mate until they die.”_

_Hannah shuddered. “I never want fledglings. I don’t want to be tied down and I definitely don’t want to have to give up my job and everything I love in this world. It’s hard enough to earn respect as it is – I don’t want people thinking I’m a bad mother for working as well as raising a child.”_

_Castiel nodded in agreement and drew his wing tighter around her. “An omega’s job isn’t merely to raise children like everyone seems to think. We can live a fulfilling life and not have fledglings.”_

_Hannah smiled and snaked an arm around his waist. “I think you’re the first omega I’ve met who’s felt the same way as me.”_

_Castiel chuckled and gazed at her fondly. “I think you’re the first omega I’ve met who’s not afraid to go on a date with another omega.”_

_Hannah smirked wickedly. “You’ve got to admit… we look pretty hot together.” She winked and wriggled further into his side and he grinned at her even as heat pooled in his groin._

_“And here I thought you were a conservative sort of lady,” he said drily._

_She snickered and suddenly stopped their gentle stroll, turning to him against a backdrop of dimly glowing flowers._

_“You know, Castiel… this is our seventh date and you have yet to kiss me.” She glanced up at him through long eyelashes and he licked his suddenly dry lips._

_“I… I wasn’t sure if you-” He cut himself off as her hand cupped his cheek tenderly._

_“I really like you, Castiel,” she breathed and for a moment, Castiel thought his heart had stopped._

_“I like you too,” he whispered. “Very much so.”_

_Her whole face brightened and she leaned forwards at the same moment that he did. Their lips came within an inch of one another before Hannah suddenly pulled back and fixed him with a stern look._

_“Before we go any further, I need you to understand that I’m not using my powers on you. I know I can manipulate emotions and it scares people, but I really am not forcing you to feel anything for me. Anything you feel is completely your own.”_

_Castiel raised an eyebrow. “I know.”_

_Hannah shook her head, looking a little embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I… I’ve lost a lot of dates due to them finding out about my abilities and I just… I don’t want to lose you. You’re special to me. Whatever’s between us feels… different.”_

_A smile swept over Castiel’s face and he placed a finger under her chin. “You’re very special to me too.”_

_Without further ado, he pressed their lips together and felt Hannah practically melt against him. Their kiss was nothing more than a gentle touch of lips but once it was over, Hannah shuffled closer and pulled him in for a second, which turned into a third and then a fourth and before either of them knew it, Castiel’s wings were wrapped around Hannah possessively, his hands cupping her cheek and waist and her hands knotted in his hair and the base of his wing._

_They drew apart with swollen lips and racing pulses and their eyes glowed slightly as they took in the sight of one another._

_“You could come back to my place if you want?” Hannah offered quietly._

_Castiel swallowed, attempting to calm his flustered breathing. “It’s getting late,” he replied weakly. “We have work tomorrow.”_

_Hannah’s wings drooped a little and she brushed her hair behind her ear again. “…You could always stay the night?”_

_Castiel licked his lips and took one glance over her lithe body before nodding. “If it’s alright with you?”_

_Hannah’s eyes brightened for a second and her wings began to fan slightly in an attempt to make herself appear more appealing. “It’s more than alright with me.”_

_They made their way back to Hannah’s apartment, skin flushed and wings arced around one another._

*             *             *

 

Dean awoke to the sound of irritating buzzing. He threw an arm over to his nightstand and blindly switched his phone off, cursing himself for setting an alarm when he had booked the next few days off in order to deal with the court case. He settled back down again and suddenly felt more contented and relaxed than he had done in a over a year. It was the sort of bone-deep contentment that made him smile without opening his eyes. He nuzzled into the warm patch of skin brushing his nose and inhaled deeply, sighing at the scent of happy omega in heat.

He curled around Castiel and Samandriel, his arm strewn over them both protectively and he squeezed lightly, more to reaffirm his own contentedness than anything else.

Feathers tickled his skin and he hummed low in his chest, the vibrations echoing through Castiel’s body and making the omega stretch against him lazily.

“Mmm… mornin’,” Dean drawled quietly against Castiel’s neck. Castiel’s wing brushed his arm gently in response and Dean nuzzled his neck again, thrilled with the little burst of French vanilla, mandarin and sea salt radiating from the omega’s scent.

Unwilling to move just yet, Dean snaked his free arm underneath Castiel and splayed a hand over his stomach, rubbing soothingly. Immediately, Castiel melted into the mattress a released a soft breath of air.

After a few minutes, Castiel began to shift uncomfortably and Dean pouted when the angel seemed to shimmy away from him.

“Cas,” he protested in a long, drawn-out tone, attempting to pull the omega closer, but Castiel squirmed in his hold and Dean cracked an eye open to glare at him.

His halo was a cherry-red threaded with wisps of silver and although Dean couldn’t see his face, he could tell that the angel was trying very hard not to catch his gaze. Something was clearly wrong.

“What’s wrong?” he asked blearily, managing to lever himself up on one elbow, eyes half-closed.

Castiel flinched a little and refused to look at him so Dean continued to stare at the angel until he stretched out his legs and felt the wet patch on the sheets.

“Oh,” he said softly. “Don’t worry about that. I can wash the sheets.”

Castiel ducked his head in shame and Dean settled back down and shuffled closer. He curled his arm around the angel once more and continued rubbing slow circles into his stomach.

“It’s okay,” Dean whispered. “I understand the sort of stuff that happens with heats. It’s slick, right?”

Castiel nodded in humiliation and Dean clicked his tongue and squeezed his stomach carefully. “It’s alright,” he insisted. “Don’t be embarrassed by it.” He nosed at Castiel’s neck. “Are your pants wet?”

Castiel hesitated but eventually nodded, cheeks burning in shame.

Finally, Dean rolled out of bed and stumbled his way out of the room and into the bathroom and then into Castiel’s room. He returned a few minutes later with a warm, damp cloth, a towel and a pair of clean pyjama pants.

Castiel looked utterly miserable and he barely managed to lift his head as the door creaked open. He frowned at Dean in confusion as the alpha offered him his prizes.

“I’ll step outside if you want to clean yourself up,” Dean said. “Want some coffee?”

Castiel stared at him for a few long moments before gingerly accepting the offered gifts and nodding gratefully. He looked up at Dean shyly only for his gaze to linger on the obvious tent in the alpha’s boxers.

Dean’s cheeks reddened and he coughed awkwardly. “It’s… it’s the rut. Usually it goes away after a few minutes but your scent is…” He dropped his gaze in embarrassment and scratched at the sudden itch in his leg. “I’ll uh… I’ll go outside.”

He scurried off without looking back and missed the slow, amused crinkling of Castiel’s eyes.

Once Dean had started the coffee, he found himself cracking eggs and throwing omelette ingredients into a pan. He hummed off-key as he worked, swinging his hips a little and abruptly yelped when something attached itself to his back.

Arms slid around his middle and a nose pressed deep into his neck and Dean huffed out a disbelieving laugh as Castiel snuggled closer and continued to scent at him whilst he worked.

Still, he wasn’t about to complain, so he continued tending to breakfast with a bright grin and an angel in mismatching pyjamas plastered against his spine.

“Feel better?” asked Dean, his rut-influenced mind rather enjoying the unscripted attention.

Castiel nodded lazily and hooked his chin over Dean’s shoulder, watching the omelette steam.

A purr rumbled in Dean’s chest before he could stop it and Castiel looked surprised by the noise before quickly becoming intrigued and, to Dean’s exasperation, trying to wring another one from him. He succeeded by curling his wings around the alpha and nuzzling his neck affectionately, and Dean released a deep, loud purr that rattled through Castiel’s bones.

Once again, Castiel startled at the noise and obviously decided that he liked it because he held Dean tighter and closed his eyes as he rested his chin on the alpha’s shoulder. Dean shook his head as his chest flared with warmth and he gently pushed a fluffy wing out of the way and continued with breakfast.

 ** _“Dad?”_** Samandriel called sleepily as he wandered into the kitchen. He froze at the sight of Dean plating up breakfast with Castiel practically hanging off him.

The little angel frowned as he glanced between both adults and Dean shrugged helplessly and made no move to dislodge the cuddly angel.

 ** _“…Dad? Are you alright?”_** Samandriel asked warily and finally, Castiel seemed to come to himself and pulled away from Dean (if a little reluctantly). He nodded awkwardly and flitted his gaze around the kitchen in clear humiliation.

Samandriel frowned at him in confusion before narrowing his eyes at Dean and the alpha swallowed, uncertain as to why he felt like he had been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar.

“I… I think it’s his heat,” said Dean.

Samandriel cocked an eyebrow and Dean had never felt so intimidated by a ten-year-old.

“He’s never cuddled alphas in heat before,” said Samandriel suspiciously.

Dean cast his gaze to Castiel for help. Castiel stared back at him.

“Well maybe… maybe he… uh…” Dean stammered, strangely tongue-tied.

Finally, Castiel held a hand out for Samandriel to take and the young angel did so, his expression fading into one of surprise as Castiel mentally explained something to him. Samandriel pulled away with a softer expression and offered Dean a small smile.

“It’s his heat,” agreed Samandriel in the tone of someone who knows something that the rest of the room doesn’t. Without further explanation, he meandered into the living room, leaving Castiel and Dean alone.

To save himself a headache, Dean chose not to think too hard about it all and passed Castiel’s breakfast and coffee to the angel before making his way into the living room with two more plates.

He wasn’t sure whether to take an empty couch and leave the angels to arrange themselves on the largest one, but his decision was soon made for him when Castiel gently tugged him between them both and tucked into his breakfast. Samandriel shot him a strange sort of smirk and Dean blinked at his omelette and wondered why his life was so weird.

Then, Castiel slipped a wing around him and Dean decided that he liked weird.

 

*             *             *

              

Sometime after midday, whilst Samandriel was attempting to teach Dean how to draw realistic cars and Castiel was peering at them both fondly from over the top of the book he was pretending to read, there was an impatient knock at the door.

Frowning, Dean approached the door slowly, peeking through the window and catching sight of a familiar pick-up truck. He relaxed and threw the door open, allowing their guest entrance.

A broad-shouldered, scruffy-jawed alpha sauntered through the threshold; hands stuffed into his uniform pockets as his gaze flitted around the room curiously.

“Benny,” Dean greeted cheerfully, shaking the man’s meaty hand with a firm grip. “What brings you here?”

Benny’s gaze lingered on Castiel and Samandriel and both angels flocked together and made no move to introduce themselves to the stranger. They stared at him warily, even as Benny offered them a small, reassuring smile.

“Police business,” mumbled Benny before focusing fully on Dean. “I tried to call you this morning but you didn’t pick up and afterwards, it stopped ringing.”

Dean frowned in confusion before his eyes widened at the memory of switching off what he thought was an alarm.

“Ah,” said Dean. “Yeah, I may have turned my phone off.”

Benny rolled his eyes. “I figured as much. Anyway, I came here to tell you about your village theory.”

Dean straightened. “Vic sent you out last night then? What was it like? How were the neighbours?”

“Well, you were right to be suspicious,” commented Benny. “Every houseowner had the same answers to my questions, pretty much word for word. Of course, they all gave the same spiel they told us when we questioned them the first time ‘round, back when we first arrested Ketch – they didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary, didn’t know Ketch even lived with anyone...”

Dean scowled and muttered a curse under his breath. “They’re covering for one another.”

“Seems like it,” agreed Benny. “And of course, none of them are willing to testify as witnesses. I mean, we could send them all subpoenas and force them to, but I’m not entirely sure it would do us any good if they’re all determined to support Ketch anyway.”

“Then arrest them,” huffed Dean.

“On what grounds? We have no evidence that they’ve actually done anything wrong.”

“Did you take a look around their houses?” asked Dean a little desperately. “I don’t think Ketch was the only one exploiting omegas in that village.”

Benny sighed and shook his head. “We’d need a warrant for that.”

“Then get a warrant!” Dean snapped. “C’mon, man, this is gonna be used as court evidence and we need as much of that as we can get after yesterday’s shitshow!”

Benny held his hands up placatingly. “Alright, alright, calm down.” He wrinkled his nose at Dean’s poignant scent. “I’ll get a warrant.”

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face and managed to feel a little guilty for snapping at his friend. Ruts always made him more hot-headed and Sam was forever telling him to cool down. “Yeah, okay. Sorry. You want me to come with?”

Benny chuckled and shook his head. “With you in rut and Castiel on heat? No thanks. We’re not gonna get anywhere if you accidentally murder the entire village.”

Dean’s brows drew together. “I’m not gonna kill anyone. C’mon, man, I’m hot-headed but I’m not violent.”

Benny smiled wryly and flicked his gaze to Castiel. “You’ve never had him to protect before. No offense, Dean, but I don’t want you anywhere near those village folks in case you decide to attempt to defend Castiel’s honour. And Samandriel’s for that matter.”

Dean crossed his arms with a huff. “I don’t protect Cas and Samandriel. I’ve just given them a house to stay in. They’re their own people; they don’t need me to protect them.”

Benny snorted. “You’re forgetting I have a nose. I don’t think I’ve ever smelled you like this before – you weren’t even like this around Lisa.”

Dean stared at Benny darkly and Benny once again held his hands up apologetically. “Right, sorry.” He glanced at Castiel and Samandriel once more and when both angels shuffled backwards a little, Dean had to bite back the urge to growl at Benny. So much for not being protective, he thought.

“I’ll get the warrants and have a snoop around the village,” said Benny, seeming to sense that he had outstayed his welcome. “Keep your phone on and I’ll give you a call later.”

Dean nodded and walked him back towards the door. “Hurry,” he said quietly. “We don’t know how long the hung jury will last.”

Benny offered him a lazy salute before stepping out of the house. Dean sighed and was suddenly seized by the urge to return to his angels in order to check that they were alright after being faced with yet another alpha.

He closed the door and turned only to be met with two nervous-looking angels hovering approximately four foot away from him.

“Benny’s alright,” said Dean softly. “I know he looks rough, but he’d never hurt a fly. At least not anyone who didn’t deserve it. He’s a good guy.”

The angels edged forwards and Dean felt himself beginning to relax at the strength of their scents now they were so close.

“I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you guys,” Dean whispered. “You know that.”

With the courage of his heat, Castiel latched onto Dean first, nuzzling and scenting his neck gently as he curled his wings around the alpha. Dean automatically slipped an arm around him and rubbed the aches out of his spine as Samandriel lingered for a few moments, watching them with a small, puzzled frown. Then, he seemed to overcome his internal struggle and latched onto Dean too, and Dean hummed happily, feeling his irritation at Benny’s presence fade to nothing.

“How about I make us some lunch?” Dean asked quietly. “What are you both craving?”

“…Pancakes?” Samandriel asked hopefully and Dean grinned as Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Dean’s pancakes are awesome,” protested Samandriel when Castiel shot him an unimpressed glance.

Dean would never admit to preening at that, but both angels saw it.

Castiel rolled his eyes again but eventually nodded and Dean untangled himself from his angels and made his way into the kitchen, pleased when both omegas trailed after him.

 

*             *             *

 

The three of them were cleaning the stables out and refilling hay nets when Dean recognised the familiar sound of a livestock truck being rapidly unloaded.

Dean stiffened and bolted out of the stable, leaving the angels to stare after him in shocked confusion. He sprinted down his long drive, towards the main road and yelled profanities at the man and woman attempting to dump four young cows and an old bull at the foot of his property.

He watched the couple rush to close their truck and by the time he reached the fence at the border of his property, the truck was already speeding into the distance, leaving Dean to be sniffed at by the old, admittedly docile bull.

He ran a hand through his hair and spat a few more insults at the retreating truck before turning to stare at the mixture of black and red cattle in dismay. What was he supposed to do with five Angus cattle? He sighed and closed the gate that the couple had opened. He really needed to start putting locks on his gates.

There was a soft _moo_ and a nose nudged his back. He swivelled to take a proper look at his unwanted guests.

There were two red cows, two black cows and a black bull and none of them looked to have reached the weight they should have been for their age. Ribs and hip bones were visible on the cows and the bull walked with a limp, his coat coarse and shoddy and crusty with a combination of old age, fly bites and poor nutrition. Their ears were torn and weeping a small amount of blood, where their tags had been ripped out so they couldn’t be traced back to the farm they had originated from.

Dean startled as Samandriel landed beside him with a swish of wings and the alpha tried to remember when the little angel had started being able to fly again.

The young cows scarpered backwards with wide eyes, but the bull merely took a step backwards and blinked at Samandriel curiously.

The angel gazed up at Dean excitedly. “Are they ours?”

Dean didn’t have the heart to tell him that they had been abandoned so he waited for Castiel to jog over and glanced at the animals pityingly. “I’m going to take them to a rescue, I think. Somewhere they’ll be taken care of.”

Samandriel’s face fell as the bull crept closer and began sniffing at him. “We’re not keeping them?”

“They’re not ours to keep,” said Dean. “And I don’t have the stuff to look after them with.”

Samandriel gazed up at him with huge, sad eyes and carefully smoothed a hand down the bull’s nose. It flicked an ear at him and tried to suck his fingers.

Dean cursed his rut as his instincts berated him for being a bad alpha for making one of his angels upset.

“We can’t keep them,” Dean said weakly, already feeling as though he was fighting a losing battle. “Cattle are a lot of work. It’s hard enough looking after Hera and Persephone.”

“We have time,” insisted Samandriel. “I’ll look after them! It’s not like I have anything else to do.”

Dean frowned. “And what about when you go to school? You won’t have time then.”

Samandriel cocked his head to one side. “School?”

Oops. Had Dean not mentioned his idea to either of the angels yet? Obviously, he had been too focused on the court case.

“Yeah, school,” shrugged Dean. “I was thinking maybe you could start going to school instead of having lessons with me and your dad every day. Get you out of the house for a bit.”

It took a few moments for Samandriel to sort through the translation and once he did, he looked up at Dean warily.

“…You don’t want me here?” he asked quietly.

Dean’s eyes widened in alarm and he crouched down and combed his fingers through a speckled wing. “Of course I do. I just thought it would be nice for you to meet some kids your own age. Y’know, make some new friends. You’ll always come back home at the end of the day.”

Samandriel tilted his head thoughtfully. “I’ll meet human children?”

Dean smiled and nodded. “And other angels. And if you don’t like it, we can keep home-schooling until you feel ready.”

Samandriel’s wings fluttered in the barest hint of excitement. “If I make friends, I can bring them back here some days? Show them Hera and Persephone and the new cattle?”

Dean was about to nod when he registered the last few words. His mouth drew into a sarcastic smile as Samandriel smirked back at him triumphantly.

“You can show them Hera and Persephone,” said Dean drily.

“Not sure if this school thing is for me,” hummed Samandriel airily.

Dean glanced over to Castiel for help and found the angel scratching a cow behind its ear, their expressions as innocent as each other as both angel and bovine blinked at the alpha.

“I’m not made of money, y’know,” grumbled Dean half-heartedly.

“We could milk the cows and sell it,” said Samandriel eagerly and Dean couldn’t bring himself to explain that Angus cattle were beef animals.

“Yeah,” he sighed, knowing he had already lost. “Yeah, I suppose we could.”

Samandriel’s wings fluttered, his halo burning golden and Dean’s instincts praised him for being a good alpha. He turned to Castiel and managed a small smile when the omega grinned at him in amusement.

“Zeus says thank you,” chirped Samandriel and Dean frowned in confusion before casting his gaze to the bull staring at him.

“Zeus. Right,” Dean sighed. “Well, we’ll have to herd Zeus and his girls up to the stables since the old cattle shed is starting to fall apart.”

“We could help you rebuild it,” exclaimed Samandriel excitedly and Dean closed his eyes and tried not to think about how long that would take.

“Awesome,” he muttered, glaring at Castiel when the omega looked to be concealing his silent laughter.

Castiel smiled innocently at him once more before rounding the back of the small herd of cattle and suddenly flaring his wings. The cows flinched and galloped up the hill as Castiel continued to flap the huge appendages as noisily as possible, and Dean raised an eyebrow at his herding skills.

It had taken him ages to round the cows up as a young boy and he had still never mastered it in the way his mother had when he had grown older. Using horses had helped a little, but the cows quickly learned to sidestep even the friskiest of horses and Dean had returned to a cold dinner on many nights.

“Come on, Zeus,” said Samandriel lightly as he wandered up the hill and Dean watched as the old bull tottered after him, nosing his soft wings and making happy sounds deep in his throat as Samandriel fluffed his wings for the animal’s amusement.

Dean was left alone at the bottom of his drive, feeling as though his experience with cattle had been thoroughly wasted. As a child, he had always believed that you were supposed to be cautious around bulls.

He watched Zeus attempt to lick Samandriel’s halo and the angel giggled and shoved him away.

Dean pouted and trudged up to the stables.

 

*             *             *

 

That evening, Dean realised that he was the real winner.

The angels doted on him all evening, their halos glowing golden and their wings gently fluttering as they helped him with dinner and squeezed him between them on the couch. Samandriel wouldn’t stop telling him how amazing he was for keeping the cattle that he had apparently already worked out had been dumped at the farm for being too thin and small, and he leaned on Dean throughout the entirety of the movie they watched, seemingly unbothered by the fact that he was in rut.

Castiel, on the other hand, was even more tactile than usual. His smile was small but genuine and he kept brushing Dean with his wings or hands or shoulders, some touches lingering longer than others. At one point, when Dean was washing a few spoons and knives and cutting boards, Castiel boldly pressed his nose into the alpha’s neck, arms slithering around his stomach. Dean melted into the embrace, content to blame their rut and heat on their out-of-character cuddliness, and couldn’t wipe the smile from his face as the angel picked up a tea towel and began drying everything he had washed.

Their unwillingness to part transferred over to the couch and Castiel curled a wing around Dean as they ate, so once he was finished with his meal, Dean massaged the base of a wing and practically purred when Castiel tucked his head under his chin.

Samandriel watched them with an odd expression but chose not to comment and instead leaned into Dean’s other side, making the alpha a very happy human.

He knew he was affectionate during his rut because Lisa often complained about his clinginess when she was trying to work. However, he couldn’t remember being quite this desperate to have her in his arms and as Castiel nosed at his throat, he was grateful that the omega didn’t seem to have the same issues with his affection as Lisa had.

“Alright, Cas,” chuckled Dean as the angel snuggled into his chest and attempted to envelop him in his wings. He rubbed soothingly at Castiel’s spine and the omega wrapped his arms around him and curled his fingers into his shirt. Obviously, his heat was starting to intensify, which meant that Dean’s rut would probably do the same soon and the aches and pains would start to appear.

“He’s never done this before,” whispered Samandriel.

Dean cocked an eyebrow and looked down at the young angel. “Hm?”

“My dad,” murmured Samandriel, watching his father worriedly. “He’s never been like this with an alpha before. Especially not in his heat. He usually can’t stand to be around them, or anyone, really.”

Castiel suddenly froze and pulled away from Dean with wide eyes, as though only just coming to his senses after some heat-driven trance. He glanced between his son and Dean before pulling away from the alpha completely and clasping his hands together over his lap with the most humiliated expression Dean had ever seen him wear.

Dean frowned slightly. He had been quite enjoying Castiel’s fussing.

“It’s okay,” reassured Dean. “I don’t mind. If my scent helps with your heat, I’m hardly going to push you away.”

Castiel seemed torn and he looked away with a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness, so Dean slipped an arm around him and gently tugged him to his side, nuzzling his hair as he rubbed slow circles into his stomach. Finally, Castiel relaxed and allowed Dean to scent him.

“Then again,” mused Samandriel, “no alpha has ever cared for us like you do.”

Dean grinned and pulled both omegas closer. His angels were healing – both physically and mentally, they were learning to trust him, they weren’t afraid of his rut, they were a healthy weight and a healthy colour, their true personalities were beginning to shine through after all the abuse that had shaped them, and in that moment, they were happy. That was more than he could have ever dreamed of when he first signed their papers.

They would beat Ketch together – he was more determined than ever to ensure that his angels were safe and free to live their best lives possible. They would never live in fear again.

His phone blared ACDC’s _Highway to Hell_.

Dean fished it out of his pocket with a quick scowl at the time. Why would his brother call him at midnight?

“Sam?”

“There were fifteen other omegas in the village. All angels and demons.”

Dean straightened. “ _Fifteen?_ All in the same conditions as Cas and Samandriel?”

“A couple of them had to be sedated,” confirmed Sam. “They wouldn’t let the officers anywhere near them.”

Dean glanced at his curious angels and hit the speaker button. “What about the village folks? Where are they now?”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “You want to see how many squad cars they’ve got here. I’ve never seen so many blue lights in one place. The FBI have been notified.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot upwards. “FBI?”

“Apparently this isn’t just in Kansas,” said Sam. “The FBI have suspected that there are villages like this set up all over the country. This is the first time they’ve ever actually busted one.”

Dean grit his teeth. “So, they already knew about this operation and what? They decided to keep it quiet? Hundreds, no, thousands of omegas are being abused and used like this all over the country and no one thought to tell the police? All these angels and demons traumatised for life and the FBI decided to keep it covered up?”

“They said they didn’t have proof and that a single country-wide operation is a new line of thinking. Up until recently, they assumed it was just a load of protesters trying to make an immigration statement by kidnapping alien omegas. They said they had no reason to believe they weren’t working independently despite all wearing the red uniform,” sighed Sam. “Kinda like the rest of us, really.”

“So, what happens now?” asked Dean hurriedly. “Cas and Samandriel – what happens to them?”

“I’m going to provide all this new evidence to the judge tomorrow and hope they resume court ASAP. This is bound to change the jury’s mind about Ketch’s innocence.”

Dean beamed at his angels and they grinned back at him. “Thanks, Sam.”

Sam snorted. “Don’t thank me yet. Let’s hope forensics actually take pictures of the windows this time instead of just the middle of the room.”

Dean chuckled. The new photographer had received a lot of earache from both Sam and Victor for not taking photos of the perimeter of Castiel and Samandriel’s room, or even a full shot of the bedroom. She was new and inexperienced and whilst she couldn’t be entirely blamed for the disaster in court, a picture of the windows may have clued Sam into the fact that they weren’t completely boarded up and soundproofed.

Sam, of course, was frustrated at himself for the miscommunication between Samandriel, Castiel and himself; maybe if he had thought to question the description of the room a little more during their chat, he might have worked out the whole window problem.

“Check the photos before you leave the site,” advised Dean. “You gonna pay us a visit tomorrow or will we just see you in court?”

“I can stop by for moral support if you want,” offered Sam. “Bring the herd with me?”

Dean smirked at the reference to Gabriel and his brothers. He glanced at Castiel and his smile faded as he caught a whiff of the omega’s worsening heat.

“Uh… better not. I’m on rut.”

“I thought you reeked yesterday!” Sam exclaimed. “Although I suppose it now makes sense why you lost your cool with Abaddon and Judge Moores. Maybe you should stay out of court for the next few days.”

Dean’s gaze lingered on Castiel and the angel stared back. “Yeah. Maybe. You gonna need Cas and Samandriel in court again?”

Sam pondered over the question for a moment. “Yes. In case I need anything else out of them.”

Dean shifted. “…My rut’s not that bad. Maybe I should come to court. Just to watch, y’know?”

Sam paused and Dean didn’t miss the way Castiel shuffled a little closer to him.

“Depends if Moores will let you back in,” mused Sam. “I mean, you did kinda threaten him.”

“Well, I’ll kiss his ass a little. Suck up to him. Apologise.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Dean. Not if you’re in rut. You’ll stink the courtroom out,” said Sam. “Stay home and I can give Castiel and Samandriel a lift back if you like?”

Dean didn’t like it. His instincts screeched at him not to leave Castiel and Samandriel alone, especially with the older omega in heat.

“…I don’t think-”

“Dean, relax. They’ll be fine. I promise I’ll drive them straight back home as soon as Ketch is sentenced.”

Dean scratched the itch at the back of his neck and felt a small twinge of pain in his stomach. He glanced at Castiel worriedly, and after some hesitancy, the angel managed a weak smile and a nod.

“Cas is in heat,” Dean murmured, fingers reaching out to stroke a patch of raven feathers. Castiel watched his hand curiously.

“Ah,” Sam said and Dean could practically hear his grimace. “That’s…” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “Is he alright? He’s not… I don’t know… barricaded himself in his room or something? I can’t imagine he’ll feel particularly comfortable with you on rut as well.”

Dean snorted. “Sam, he’s sitting next to me.”

“Oh!” Sam squeaked. “Hi, Cas. How are you feeling?”

Castiel quirked his lips in amusement and without being asked to, Samandriel leaned over and lightly touched his father’s knuckles.

“My dad says hi,” hummed Samandriel, making himself comfortable against Dean’s side as he held his father’s hand. “And although he was afraid of Dean at first, Dean quickly proved himself to be kind and gentle and a bit soft.”

Dean snorted and threaded his fingers into Castiel’s wing, unable to help himself from touching the angel. Samandriel frowned and glanced at Dean and his father.

‘Proved?’ he mouthed confusedly, but Castiel must have explained the Enochian translation to him mentally, because the little angel’s expression quickly cleared into one of understanding.

“That’s… good,” said Sam, seemingly surprised. “As long as you’re okay.” He paused. “Are you up to appearing in court again soon? Maybe next couple of days or so? I get you’re on heat but I really need you both there. I’ll drive you straight back home afterwards, I promise.”

“Dad asks if Ketch’ll be there?” Samandriel relayed word-for-word from Castiel’s thoughts.

“Well… yeah. He’ll be at the defendant’s desk again,” Sam frowned.

Castiel paused and looked up at Dean nervously and the alpha instantly understood his fear of being around his abuser whilst he was in heat.

“Sam, I’m coming to that courtroom,” Dean said firmly and he felt Castiel relax a fraction. “Even if I have to grovel at Moores’ feet, I’m getting in.”

Thankfully, it appeared as though Sam understood Castiel’s unspoken concerns. “Yeah, okay. I’ll explain to him what happened when I see him tomorrow. You want his number?”

Dean created a new contact in his phone as Sam relayed the number and they exchanged a few pleasantries before disconnecting the call.

Samandriel yawned widely and snuggled into Dean’s side. Both adults smiled down at him and Dean ruffled his hair fondly.

“I think it’s someone’s bed time.”

Samandriel hummed sleepily and Dean petted his wings. “C’mon, kiddo. Go get ready for bed.”

“Your bed?” Samandriel asked hopefully and Dean’s chest flooded with warmth and pride.

“If that’s what you want.”

Samandriel nodded and stretched, his wings giving a tiny flutter from the exertion. He stood and shuffled off towards Dean’s bedroom with a mumbled, “Goodnight.”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay in court?” asked Dean softly, once he was certain that Samandriel had closed the door.

Castiel offered him a reassuring smile and a nod. Dean toyed with a couple of feathers.

“I’ll be right there with you,” he promised and the corners of Castiel’s eyes crinkled. He spread his wings a little wider and Dean watched as he buried his own palm in the inside of one, fascinated by the silk-like composition of feathers as they tickled his skin.

Castiel cast his gaze to Dean’s wandering hand and after a minute or so, carefully grasped it and guided it to the longest feathers at the bottom. He showed Dean how to straighten them out and when he came across a loose one, he demonstrated how to carefully remove it.

Entranced, Dean copied Castiel’s demonstration and slowly worked his way higher up the wing, allowing the angel to guide his movements when necessary. When he moved on to the second wing, he found the angle awkward and Castiel struggled to manoeuvre the huge appendage with it being trapped between him and the back of the couch, so Dean dropped to the floor and kneeled between Castiel’s legs, allowing the angel to fan his wing without restraint.

He combed through Castiel’s feathers methodically, plucking out loose or broken ones and kneading the muscles beneath merely because he enjoyed watching the angel’s eyes flutter shut in bliss. Once he was finished with the insides, Castiel migrated to the floor and sat cross-legged in front of Dean, his back facing him. Dean eagerly began working on the backs of the wings and grinned when the feathers rustled beneath his fingertips. Despite being black at a distance, they shone with purples and greens and blues under the light; glossy and almost fluid as though a painter had designed each and every one. They fluffed slightly under Dean’s touch and Dean was amazed by their softness and delicate composition.

They glistened - similar to oil - when properly taken care of and Dean touched them almost greedily, determined to leave not a single feather ungroomed. He took his time, smoothing and plucking and massaging twitching muscles and as he did so, he examined the scars littering the skin beneath the feathers. He traced them reverently, exploring the imperfections beneath his fingertips and he frowned sadly at the largest scars. He circled his thumb around old burns and mapped out gashes that had left permanent indentations in Castiel’s skin and when the wing began to quiver, he gripped it gently and continued his investigation, wholly focused on learning what sort of damage had been inflicted on the brave angel.

After approximately half an hour into grooming the backs of Castiel’s wings, Dean noticed that Castiel was trembling, his breaths shaky and hitching at every so often.

“Cas?” Dean asked, alarmed. He leaned over a wing to catch a glimpse of the angel’s face.

His eyes were squeezed shut tightly, water caught beneath his lashes and threatening to spill down his cheeks. His face burned red and his halo blazed with a multitude of colours that Dean could barely identify.

“Cas,” Dean said again, worriedly, and the angel snapped his gaze up sharply and eyes swimming with emotion, mouthed desperately, ‘Don’t stop.’

Dean’s eyes widened and he slowly returned to his post, plunging his fingers into the shuddering appendages once more and continuing his exploration of Castiel’s feathers and wounds.

The angel’s breaths began to hitch harder and Dean was hit by a particularly strong scent of omega heat tangled up in sadness, shame, fear, hope, desperation, relief and a tonne of other emotions that Dean didn’t have time to decipher. He shifted and curled a hand around Castiel’s stomach, tugging him into his chest as he bracketed his legs around the angel’s thighs.

“Come here,” he whispered, burying his nose into Castiel’s neck as his other hand continued to work the angel’s wing.

Castiel’s shoulders shook in a silent, anguished sob and Dean rubbed his stomach gently and held him tighter, nuzzling his neck and jaw and releasing a rumble from deep within his chest.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “I promise you’re safe.”

Castiel bared his neck further for Dean as he placed his hand over the one the alpha was rubbing his stomach with. With his spare hand, Castiel hooked his fingers under the alpha’s thigh and stroked down to his knee and back up again, repeating the motion over and over as though trying to ground himself.

Dean purred at the gentle petting and massaged his wing deeper, smirking when Castiel’s head flopped back onto his shoulder. He pressed his nose into the angel’s throat and inhaled his scent hungrily. He couldn’t remember being addicted to a scent before, but he couldn’t seem to get enough of Castiel’s.

He couldn’t seem to keep his hands off the angel either though, so maybe he shouldn’t have been too surprised.

There was another flood of Castiel’s delicious scent and it took Dean a moment to realise it smelled a little different – less emotional, more… sweet.

He peered over to the inside of Castiel’s right wing and watched a dribble of clear liquid trail over fluffed feathers.

“What’s…?” He began, snaking his hand around the wing to collect the fluid. It had the same consistency as vegetable oil.

Castiel’s halo flamed scarlet and Dean tilted his head in confusion. Shades of red implied embarrassment, right? What was Castiel embarrassed about?

“Tell me,” whispered Dean as he hooked his chin over the angel’s shoulder. “C’mon, Cas, you know I won’t judge.”

Castiel ducked his head a little and, without meeting Dean’s gaze, gently grasped the alpha’s hand and worked the liquid from his fingers into black feathers. The patch of feathers glittered under the lights, taking on a brilliant sheen and Dean gazed at them in awe and brushed his fingertips over them. They shimmered with a thousand different shades of purple and green and red and blue, rendering Dean speechless. He had never seen anything so beautiful before – not even Baby could compare to the breathtaking glimmer of Castiel’s feathers.

He watched more liquid trickle down Castiel’s wings and he captured it and worked it into another patch of feathers, ensuring to rub it into the skin below. The feathers took on that same glossy quality – like highly polished glass – and Dean found himself covering the entirety of Castiel’s wings in the liquid, rubbing and squeezing the muscles beneath as he did so. He didn’t stop until Castiel’s wings were practically dripping with what he was convinced was oil, and he made sure that no inch of skin was left dry. He paid extra attention to Castiel’s scars and burns, coating them in oil and massaging it in; hopeful that it would somehow aid in healing the reminders of his abuse.

Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he glanced to Castiel’s face and noticed that the angel’s chest was heaving as he stared at Dean with brightly glowing eyes. A sinful scent swirled about the air and Castiel’s lips parted slightly as he let his head flop backwards against the alpha’s shoulder.

Dean swallowed thickly at the powerful stench of omega heat and he licked his lips as he stared at the angel. He curled his arm possessively around Castiel’s stomach and the angel’s eyes flashed even brighter, gaze laser-focused on Dean’s face.

Dean glanced down and inhaled sharply at the slick seeping through Castiel’s pants and the obvious tent in the crotch area.

He should have stopped right there and then. He should have stood up and offered to get Castiel a new pad and some pyjamas. He should have left the room to clear his head and adjust his own stiffening length.

He didn’t.

Castiel’s halo was an intense ring of violet – far brighter and paler than purple – and Dean almost had to squint against its aura. What did violet mean? Surely it couldn’t mean pain like purple did?

Dean eyed Castiel’s crotch again, watching the slick soak further down his thighs. He kneaded his oiled palm into thick wing muscles and Castiel gulped and struggled to keep his eyes open. His breath stuttered and Dean nuzzled into his jaw.

“You like that?” he breathed. “You like me grooming you?”

Castiel nodded and squeezed Dean’s other hand as his eyes fell shut.

Dean watched as more oil flowed down the saturated wings as though Castiel had no control over his own leaking glands. Dean raked it down the omega’s feathers and felt Castiel shudder against him.

“You like me taking care of you?” he whispered against the angel’s jaw as he rubbed his stomach slowly and Castiel nodded again, flicking his gaze up to Dean’s face and staring at him as though he never wanted the alpha to let go.

Dean’s resulting purr rivalled Baby’s engine. He scented at Castiel’s neck greedily.

“I want to take care of you,” Dean breathed against his skin. “Wanna hold you and groom you and touch your wings like you deserve. You deserve so many good things. I wanna make you feel good. Wanna make you happy. Make you forget about all those assholes at Ketch’s. Let me take care of you, Cas.”

Castiel looked wrecked as he twisted to clutch at Dean’s sleeve. He stared up at the alpha desperately and Dean manoeuvred him onto his lap so they were facing one another. He pulled Castiel closer until their stomachs brushed and for a moment, Castiel looked uncertain, but then Dean plunged both hands into his wings and manipulated the muscles mercilessly and Castiel quickly slumped against him with shuddering breaths.

He clutched at Dean’s shirt and buried his nose into his throat, inhaling deeply.

“That’s it,” hummed Dean, pulling the angel closer. “Show me what you need.”

The angel pressed into him and Dean could feel the hard line of his erection digging into his stomach, along with the cool wetness of his slick sinking into Dean’s dry jeans. He could feel his alpha instincts begging for more; more contact, more friction, more scenting, more grooming, _more Castiel._

One of Castiel’s hands slithered over his shoulder, around his neck and into his hair. He tugged at dirty blonde tufts and Dean bared his throat further as his eyes slipped shut. Castiel immediately shoved his nose against the newly exposed skin and Dean made a soft noise of pleasure.

He was suddenly aware of Castiel mouthing something against his throat. It took him a few moments to figure out the silent beg.

‘More. Please, more.’

Dean blinked and knotted his fingers in slicked feathers. He pulled a little before moving onto the insides of the wings, tugging on the feathers there too. Castiel exhaled loudly and gently scraped his nails over Dean’s scalp. His hips jerked forwards and Dean suffered a brief lapse as he allowed his instincts to take control for a fraction of a second.

He abruptly pushed Castiel onto his back and straddled him and Castiel’s halo flared white as he stared at Dean with wide eyes.

However, when Dean began parting his feathers and tracing his scars again, a low whine in his throat, Castiel cautiously relaxed and allowed one hand to snake into the alpha’s hair.

Dean realised how his actions could have been perceived a moment later and he glanced down at Castiel in a mixture of apology and concern, but Castiel managed a weak smile and Dean sighed in relief. He curled an arm around Castiel and slowly lowered himself onto the angel’s body, his other hand still sorting through feathers, and he nuzzled into the angel’s neck with a pleased rumble.

Carefully, Castiel wrapped his free arm around Dean and angled his head until the alpha was nosing at his cheek instead. He held Dean tightly and closed his eyes and Dean squeezed him back.

“I’m gonna start taking you out more,” he whispered, lips brushing Castiel’s light stubble. “Take you to the places you should have seen when you first arrived in Kansas. Screw your contract. You’re not dangerous and you shouldn’t have to stay cooped up here.”

A small smile touched Castiel’s lips. Dean splayed his hand over the middle of his wing.

“I’m gonna groom you more, too,” he continued. “As much as you’ll let me. You need someone to take care of your wings for once and I like touching you. I like _you_ touching _me_.”

Castiel carded his fingers through his hair.

“Now I’ve got a reputation to uphold, so don’t go ‘round telling people I said all this,” murmured Dean, “but what do you think? You up for more grooming sessions?”

Castiel nodded lazily and brushed his knuckles up and down Dean’s spine.

Dean hummed happily, feeling as though an imaginary weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “Awesome. Promise you’ll ask if you need something from me? And I mean anything. Food, drink, pads, painkillers, massage, time alone… anything you need, promise you’ll tell me?”

Castiel opened his eyes, gazing at Dean gratefully. He nodded and in a burst of courage, cupped Dean’s shoulder tenderly and frowned at him with a pointed expression.

Dean huffed in flustered amusement. “Yeah, okay. I solemnly swear to ask you if I need something.”

Castiel smiled, pleased and made to sit up, so Dean stood and offered a hand, unable to help himself from glancing down at the angel’s crotch and the slick saturating his trousers. Castiel’s halo swung to red once again but he took Dean’s hand anyway and gestured to the human’s own crotch, where there was a very prominent strain against the stitches of his jeans.

The alpha grinned unashamedly. “Entirely my rut’s fault. Can’t help it.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes in a way that said Dean was a dirty liar. He glanced at the clock – 2:11 A.M. – and made his way to his bedroom, leaving Dean to feel a little disappointed but no less pleased about their new agreement.

The alpha wandered to his bedroom and softened at the sight of Samandriel tucked beneath his covers, halo verging on golden as he slept soundly. His eyes tracked to the mural of the Impala and a smile blossomed over his face; he would never get tired of gazing at the little angel’s work.

When Dean grabbed his pyjamas, he noticed the Grumpy Cat stuffed toy that Samandriel was clutching tight to his chest and the alpha swallowed thickly as he was overcome by a wave of emotion, which he had no intention of deciphering. He hurried outside to change and quickly returned to his bedroom, sliding into bed and after a moment of hesitation, he wrapped an arm around Samandriel and tugged him close.

The little omega made a quiet sound in his sleep and rolled over, dragging his cat with him as he burrowed further into Dean’s chest. Dean pressed his nose into his hair and basked in his spiced fruit scent, stroking a wing gently as he did so. He couldn’t describe the feelings he was experiencing at the sight of Samandriel hugging a toy Dean had bought him, wrapped in the alpha’s covers, overlooked by an incredible painting that he had gifted to Dean, whilst allowing said alpha to hold him despite being in rut – but he knew that he was happy.

Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had felt truly happy. Maybe with Lisa – before she had cheated?

He squeezed Samandriel lightly and nuzzled his hair and Samandriel’s halo shone a little more golden.

Dean was just beginning to doze off when suddenly, the bed dipped behind him. He twisted his neck to assess the intruder and was met with Castiel’s intense ocean-blue gaze.

They stared at each other for a few moments in something akin to surprise, but then Castiel curled a protective wing around his son and Dean and the alpha felt a grin creep across his face as the angel settled down and pressed his forehead between his shoulder blades.

“Night, Cas,” Dean whispered into the darkness.

A warm hand slid over his waist and splayed over his stomach. Dean fell asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back after nearly a month without wifi! *sobs*
> 
> Sorry, guys! Hope you've not lost too much interest in this fic! I'm trying to get it up and running again and I have loved reading all of your comments!


	15. Broken

_“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Two pretty omegas in heat, taking a walk through the park alone at night. Not a single alpha in sight,” leered an alpha with striking red and black wings. His halo glowed an intense violet as his gaze raked over both Hannah and Castiel’s bodies._

_Castiel clutched Hannah’s hand a little tighter and narrowed a glare at the other man, wary of the small group of alphas and betas behind him; each of them gazing at Castiel and Hannah hungrily, unspeakable thoughts racing through their minds. Castiel’s wings began to flare in an attempt to hide Hannah from view and hopefully deter the group from doing anything untoward._

_“What’s this? Are you two together?” asked the alpha delightedly, repulsive smirk widening. “As in lovers?”_

_“Mind your own business,” snapped Hannah and the group of unwelcome angels jeered and cooed mockingly._

_“How vile and unnatural,” continued the lead alpha with an airy tone. He started to advance on the pair, wings raised high in a dominating pose. “What you two need is a good alpha to set you straight. Someone who knows how to use their knot.”_

_Castiel fanned his wings furiously, halo plunging into the deepest shades of black. He forced his scent to sour in hopes it would put the alpha off, but apparently the aroma of his heat was too powerful (or maybe the alpha didn’t care about the sourness) because he continued his approach, inhaling unsubtly as his trousers began to tent._

_“Leave us alone,” growled Hannah. “We’re not interested.”_

_“You will be,” hummed the alpha, reaching out for her arm. Castiel smacked it away, growling low in his chest._

_Suddenly, an alpha and a beta surged forwards from the main group and grasped Castiel’s wrists, laughing as they yanked him away from Hannah. He struggled against them, snarls escaping his lips, but another alpha stepped forward and helped to restrain him and Castiel yelped as fingers explored his wings and dived under his shirt, mapping out bare skin. He beat his wings and landed a few good blows to his captors’ faces and arms, but they shifted until they could pin his wings down and continue scenting and touching him._

_Behind him, Hannah found herself encircled by the remaining three men and women. They surged towards her as one and pushed her to the damp ground, groping her and scenting her with eager grins. Once again, Castiel wriggled against his captors but to no avail. They held fast and began removing his shirt, chittering about all the ways they were going to make him ‘normal and straight’. He gagged at their repulsive scents and scrunched his eyes shut when they caressed his face._

_He mourned the terrible end to his date night with Hannah and cursed the day alphas and betas were created. This wasn’t even the first time they had been ambushed on a date and he doubted it would be the last. The only difference was that the last two times there had been less attackers, so Castiel and Hannah had managed to fight them off. This time wasn’t proving so easy._

_He kicked out at the female alpha’s stomach and she staggered backwards with a pained shout. He managed to swing his fist at one male alpha and he cried out as his nose cracked and trickled with blood. Unfortunately, his third attacker – another male alpha, clenched his wings and arms around Castiel and managed to wrestled him to the floor. After that, the other two alphas pounced on him and Castiel realised that he had no leverage._

_He watched in horror as a male beta ripped Hannah’s elegant lace blouse from her as another female alpha worked to unclasp her bra, the lead alpha of the group pinning her down with an aroused rumble._

_Castiel yelped as one alpha began groping at his crotch before fumbling with his belt. He dug his heels into the ground and attempted to spring away from his attackers, but the alpha he had fallen on earlier had a strong grip and forced him to remain still._

_“You’ll enjoy this,” purred the alpha behind him, nipping at his jaw and Castiel nearly retched at his foul scent. “Trust me. An alpha’s knot is the best experience for any omega in heat.”_

_“Can’t wait to feel your tight, wet pussy, omega,” growled the female alpha as she straddled Castiel’s stomach and rubbed her plump knot against him. Her wings leaked a steady stream of oil and Castiel quickly realised why her scent made bile pool in his throat – she was in rut. Actually, a few of these alphas smelled as though they were in rut now he was concentrating on it._

_His hopes of escaping plummeted a few notches. Alphas in rut couldn’t be reasoned with and they became far more determined to keep hold of their prey until they had satisfied their urges. Practically nothing Castiel or Hannah did would succeed in dissuading these alphas from getting what they wanted._

_Panic gripped Castiel’s chest and he snapped his gaze to Hannah, whom stared back fearfully as she continued to struggle against her captors. She had obviously come to the same conclusion._

_“What do you think of two in the front and one in the back?” asked the female alpha with a husky tone as she pressed a finger into one of Castiel’s oil glands. Castiel winced at the intrusion and watched in dismay as the gland began to leak oil in response to being stimulated during his heat. It felt like a betrayal of his own body – usually, they wouldn’t have reacted to such an assault._

_He shuddered as the female alpha sucked her finger into her mouth and hummed around it blissfully. The male alpha behind her, in his rut-driven haze, finally worked out how to pull Castiel’s belt from its loops and quickly got to work on his zip._

_Desperately, Castiel jerked a knee into his face and the alpha yelped as his already-broken nose was jolted. The female alpha growled and wrapped her sharp talons around his neck and in one fluid motion, the alpha behind him unzipped the omega’s trousers._

_Hannah yelled for help before her mouth was muffled._

_The female alpha began to remove her own clothes and Castiel felt the man behind him unzip his own jeans, hips already beginning to rock against Castiel’s ass. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and hoped it would all be over soon._

_Suddenly, a lascivious but familiar scent swept over Castiel and the alphas’ attack on him stopped, their heads snapping up as they surveyed the park hungrily, searching for the source of the erotic scent._

_An angel with rainbow wings shimmering like polished metal observed the scene from a few metres away. His feathers were fluffed in invitation and he smiled at the alphas and beta seductively, fluttering his wings a little._

_The five alphas quickly left their prey in order to advance on the receptive angel before them, and when he took to the skies, they followed him without hesitation, pushing themselves to fly harder and faster than their peers in order to claim the stranger as their own._

_The beta lingered, watching the stranger lead his friends away from the park and he frowned in confusion. Unhindered by an alpha rut, he couldn’t understand why his friends would chase after the stranger when they already had two omegas in heat at their mercy – sure, the stranger had smelled even more delicious than either omega, but why go after him when they already had two perfectly useful omegas?_

_He was just about to return to fondling Hannah’s exposed breast when there was a rush of air from a pair of powerful wings and the scent of a very irate alpha and suddenly, a hand closed around his throat and lifted him into the air. He gasped and scrabbled at the hand in a futile attempt at escaping and was met with a cold, grey glare coupled with a dangerously black halo._

_“Leave,” growled the towering alpha in a voice like ice. “Before I break each of your fingers.”_

_He dropped the beta unceremoniously and watched him scramble to his feet and race off into the distance without even a backwards glance._

_“Gadreel,” Castiel breathed in relief as the alpha politely averted his gaze from Hannah whilst she hurried to dress herself. Wings still fanned in anger, Gadreel nodded slightly and remained rooted to the spot, protecting Hannah from any unwanted attention._

_Castiel zipped himself back up and threw his shirt on and by the time he had found his way to his feet, there was the sound of someone touching down behind him. He turned and was immediately ambushed by Balthazar, who inspected practically every inch of him, scowling and clicking his tongue with a darkening halo as he catalogued the damage to Castiel’s wings and dignity._

_“Are you alright, Cassie?” Balthazar murmured, smoothing out feathers and wrinkling his nose at the lingering scents of the other alphas._

_“I am now,” Castiel assured with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”_

_Balthazar smiled sadly and curled a protective wing around the omega. They turned to watch Gadreel check over Hannah somewhat stiffly but with concern in his gaze. She shied away from him and wrapped her arms around herself when he asked if she was alright. Castiel strode over to her and arced his wings around her in an attempt to make her feel more secure and she relaxed a fraction but refused to look at Gadreel and Balthazar, halo a myriad of tangling colours._

_“Are you okay?” Castiel asked softly, drawing her closer. She allowed him to pull her to his chest and she scented at his neck, needy and insecure._

_“I hate alphas,” she whispered. “I hate betas. Why do they think they can use us however they want?”_

_Castiel hugged her tighter and stroked a hand down her back, aware of Gadreel and Balthazar hovering beside them, watching on worriedly._

_“Why can’t they just treat us like people?” she whimpered quietly._

_He petted her hair and pressed his lips to her head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, unable to think of anything else to say. What did someone say after being attacked like that anyway?_

_It was only when Balthazar rubbed his back did Castiel realise that his own wings were trembling. It dawned on him that he had been helpless against those alphas once they pinned him to the grass and if it hadn’t been for Gadreel and Balthazar’s interference, he and Hannah would currently be facing something much darker and more violating than mere thoughts. He hugged Hannah a tad closer and nuzzled into her hair as her cool tears dripped onto his shoulder._

_He flicked his gaze to Gadreel and Balthazar and poured as much appreciation and relief into his expression as possible and they shuffled closer, wings spanned protectively._

_“Why were you out here alone so late?” Gadreel asked gently, glancing around the dense trees and empty benches. This part of the park was dimly lit and it was difficult to see what or who was lurking in the shadows._

_“We had a late dinner,” mumbled Castiel, wings still vibrating. “We thought we’d walk it off here before heading back to Hannah’s.”_

_“Whilst on your heat?” Balthazar asked, confused, his eyebrows pinching downwards as he glanced at Castiel as though he should know better._

_Castiel ducked his head in embarrassment. When put like that, it did sound rather irresponsible._

_Hannah, however, snapped her gaze to Balthazar and Gadreel with a thick scowl. “Yes,” she snarled. “On our heats. We should be able to walk around the local park freely without attracting a bunch of knothead alphas and vile betas to rape us! Or do you think omegas are just a bunch of holes to use and discard? Do you think we’re begging for a fat knot too?”_

_She glared at Gadreel, who was clearly struggling not to scent the air with two omegas in heat. His wings twitched and flicked continuously and he averted his gaze in shame, cheeks pink._

_Balthazar raised his hands placatingly and shook his head. “Of course not,” he said softly. “But a lot of people do think like that and have no problems forcing an omega into compromising positions. And coming out where there isn’t any lighting whilst in the midst of your heat is just asking for trouble.”_

_“What? So, we were asking for it?” Hannah snapped. “It’s the victim’s fault and never the attacker’s? Is that how you see omegas? As ‘asking for trouble’?”_

_Balthazar’s eyes widened as his jaw clicked shut. He shook his head again in frustration and Hannah aimed a growl at him. Immediately, Gadreel was freed from his struggle with the scent of two omegas in heat and he scowled and curled a wing around his mate, protective instincts kicking in._

_“You know he didn’t mean any offence,” Gadreel huffed, gaze narrowed and when Hannah’s feathers ruffled angrily, it occurred to Castiel that heats and ruts tended to affect people’s emotions._

_Castiel was prone to becoming softer and overly tactile (and maybe a little needy) when suffering from his heat, whereas Hannah appeared to grow easily-irritated and quick to temper as her usually logical nature melted away._

_“How about we go home, have a hot drink, and wash all those alphas’ and beta’s scents off us?” Castiel suggested carefully, eying Balthazar and Gadreel in a way that urged them to play along._

_Gadreel relaxed a fraction as Hannah huffed a long breath. Then she nodded and tucked herself into Castiel’s side, but not before glaring one last time at the pair of mates._

_“We’re not just a bunch of wet holes for you to knot.”_

_“Never believed you were,” replied Balthazar gently before Gadreel’s feathers had chance to ruffle again._

_Castiel was thankful that at least Balthazar wasn’t affected by their heat, unlike every other beta._

_“Come on, Hannah,” Castiel murmured, trying to lead her out of the park. She suddenly whirled to face the other pair._

_“What were_ you _doing out here anyway?” she accused._

_“We go out flying nearly every evening,” frowned Balthazar. “We don’t live too far from here, after all.”_

_“Oh, so it’s okay for you to come out here but not us? Is that because you’re not omegas?” Hannah continued, feathers puffing out once more and prompting Gadreel’s to do the same at the perceived threat to his mate. Balthazar shot his mate a withering glare and stepped away from the wing that was attempting to curl around him once more._

_“We’re not in heat,” he pointed out. “Or rut, for that matter.”_

_Hannah continued to glare at them. “How convenient for you,” she spat._

_“Hannah, enough,” huffed Castiel. “You know that Balthazar and Gadreel would never condemn us for our designations. They’re just concerned for us, that’s all.”_

_Hannah huffed irritably but said nothing more as Balthazar nodded in agreement. Castiel sighed and gently took his girlfriend’s hand. “Let’s go home,” he whispered and she allowed him to pull her out of the park, leaving Balthazar to handle his fussing mate._

*             *             *

 

Dean’s fists clenched and unclenched as he watched Abaddon practically interrogate Castiel then Samandriel. His chest bloomed with pride though when his angels held their heads high and answered every single question with determination and conviction. Once they were dismissed, they took their seats either side of Dean and the alpha curled a protective arm around Samandriel and, not wanting to cause rumours or disruption in the court, he bumped his knee against Castiel’s in reassurance. In response, Castiel snaked his little finger around Dean’s and they remained like that for the remainder of the hearing; Dean’s smile warm and pleased as he basked in the subtle contact.

Dean knew they were receiving uncomfortable and concerned looks from the majority of the courtroom, but there wasn’t much he could do about his and Castiel’s overwhelming scents in their current state. He didn’t particularly care what everyone thought about him but he did have to take care with his actions as he had no desire to cause Abaddon to question the nature of their relationship and use it against his angels. Heats and ruts were natural; they weren’t grounds for new accusations, but if Dean was to suddenly pull Castiel into his side and scent at his neck or nuzzle his hair like he so desperately wanted to, that could cause a few problems.

Abaddon and Ketch didn’t really have a chance at winning their case anyway – not when Sam presented the new evidence of the village-wide omega exploitation programme in front of the jury. The jurors had already convinced themselves of Ketch’s guilt the moment they saw the pictures of the whole village being arrested and the broken omegas that had been rescued. Abaddon knew she had lost twenty minutes into the session but she was being paid to defend Ketch so she continued her queries as a matter of formality.

Once both Sam and Abaddon had exhausted their cases, the jury disappeared to discuss their thoughts and Abaddon slumped a little more in her seat and closed her eyes as Sam risked a glance backwards at Dean, Castiel and Samandriel, offering them a wink.

Dean grinned at his brother proudly and both angels managed a shy smile, which made Sam beam and return to shuffling papers and files around his desk in an attempt to make himself appear busy.

The jurors filed into the room only a few minutes later and Judge Moores lifted an eyebrow at them. “Has the jury come to a decision?”

A balding man with a bit of a pot belly and unflattering spectacles stood as a spokesperson for the rest of the jury. “We have.”

“And how do they find the defendant?” Moores asked as though he already knew the answer.

There wasn’t even a pause.

“Guilty.”

Judge Moores nodded and turned his attention to Ketch. “Arthur Ketch, for the crimes of sexual exploitation, grievous bodily harm, abuse of a minor and intended misuse of the Indentured Servitude programme, I hereby sentence you to life in prison.”

He tapped his gavel and stood without a second glance at Ketch, collecting his notes together and making his way towards the courtroom exit.

Dean laughed in a mixture of excitement, relief, and joy and he yanked both angels into a bone-crushing hug as they fluttered their wings and clung to him, stress spilling out of them and making way for elation and a deep weariness at the thought of the past five horrible years finally coming to an end.

As the audience vacated the room and Ketch was carted out in cuffs, Dean allowed his control on his scent to slacken and he nuzzled Samandriel’s hair gently before doing the same to Castiel. Both angels inhaled shuddering breaths and Dean’s fingers brushed against wing bases, tender and soothing.

“You’re safe,” he murmured lowly, so only they could hear. “You’ll never see him again.”

They pressed closer to him, burying their faces in his shirt and he stroked their wings as he watched over them, a weight he didn’t even know he had lifting from his chest.

“Dinner at mine?”

Dean turned to the end of the bench where Sam was standing observing them with a soft gaze. He grinned at his little brother because there were no words for what Sam had just done for the two angels beside him. Sam’s lips quirked upwards and he leaned against the back of the bench, waiting for the trio to pull themselves together.

“Yeah,” Dean croaked when Castiel subtly nodded against his shoulder. “Yeah, that sound good.” He hadn’t expected his voice to sound so choked but he decided that he didn’t care – not after the release of his angels from their five-year nightmare.

He managed to climb to his feet and, with both angels in tow, he trailed after Sam, leaving the empty courtroom behind.

They took their own cars to Sam’s house and when the youngest Winchester knocked on the front door, it swung open to reveal four worried faces. Immediately, Sam was ambushed by questions and he laughed as he attempted to squeeze into the house whilst still surrounded by squawking angels.

Dean, Castiel and Samandriel trotted in once the herd had scuttled further down the hall and into the living room. The two angels looked around curiously and Dean couldn’t help but smile at them as they peered at old family photos and newer ones that depicted the resident angel princes.

Sam had always been a little more sentimental than he had let on.

The trio slipped into the living room and as though a switch had been flipped, the four chattering angels snapped their gazes away from Sam and homed in on their guests.

“What was the verdict?”

“How long is he locked up for?”

“Did they come to a decision?”

“Do you get to stay with Dean?”

“Woah, guys!” Sam interrupted with a fond shake of his head. “Let them get settled first.” He glanced over to the wide-eyed trio and in a more placid voice, offered, “Drinks?”

“You got any beer?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded and turned his attention to Samandriel, who was already trying to sneak over to Gabriel. “Juice, please,” he said when Gabriel noticed and strode over to him, gathering the little omega into his arms and lifting him off the ground.

Castiel eyed the pair for a moment before pointing at Dean. Sam raised an eyebrow. “You want a beer?”

Castiel nodded and Sam decided not to question the uncharacteristic choice – Castiel had faced a lot these past few days so maybe alcohol wasn’t an unreasonable request.

Dean watched Lucifer’s wings begin to rise, the copper feathers puffing out slightly as the alpha slowly stalked towards Castiel. He said nothing though, waiting to see how Castiel would react and when the omega finally noticed, his wings snapped outwards in a defensive gesture.

Lucifer hesitated for a moment and lowered his wings a fraction before advancing on Castiel again and the omega flared his wings even higher in an intimidation tactic.

For a few seconds, the pair stared each other down, neither moving, but eventually Lucifer prowled a bit closer and Castiel tensed, preparing for a fight.

Dean placed a gentle hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “It’s alright, Cas,” he whispered. He knew Lucifer well enough to have already worked out what the other alpha was up to. Lucifer had never really figured out how to make himself look anything less than dangerous.

As Lucifer continued his approach, Castiel’s nerves wavered and he took a step backwards, seeking Dean’s support.

“Lucifer,” scolded Michael. “Stop harassing the poor man. He’s been through enough and he’s in heat.”

Lucifer paused and frowned in confusion, slumping a little once he noticed the threads of white in Castiel’s otherwise silver halo.

“It’s your wings, brother,” said Raphael quietly as Lucifer tried to work out what he had done wrong. “Your body language is rather… offensive.”

Lucifer blinked and glared at his wings as though they had personally offended him and Dean chuckled before squeezing Castiel’s shoulder.

“That’s how Luci shows concern. He’s still not quite got the hang of it.”

Lucifer glared at Dean and Castiel’s previous fear began to wither as he stared at the other angel curiously.

“Go on,” encouraged Dean, nudging the omega’s shoulder. “Say hi.”

Bewildered, Castiel shuffled forwards a few paces, stiffening when Lucifer matched his steps. There was another pause before Lucifer lost his patience and closed the distance between them. He raked his fingers through Castiel’s feathers and at first, the omega flinched and attempted to recoil, but then he noticed that Lucifer was sorting his feathers back into place after they had ruffled from stress. He startled when Lucifer’s bronze wings curled around him protectively.

“Is he getting locked up?” Lucifer growled lowly as he groomed the smaller omega. “Or am I going to have to break some legs?”

Castiel blinked in alarm and Michael swatted his brother over the head with a wing.

Lucifer huffed and slid his own wings tighter around Castiel. “Are you safe?” he rumbled instead, narrowing his eyes at the omega.

Castiel stared before nodding slowly and Lucifer made a pleased sound before dragging him towards the couch and plopping into it with Castiel still wrapped up in his wings. The omega tensed again and watched Lucifer nervously but the alpha continued grooming him and frowning whenever the feathers ruffled after he had just fixed them.

After a couple of minutes, Raphael carefully lowered himself into the seat on Castiel’s other side and Lucifer opened his wings to allow his brother to help him groom Castiel.

“He was found guilty, then?” Raphael hummed, fingers dancing through Castiel’s feathers.

Castiel flicked his gaze between the other angels and nodded again, daring to relax a little.

“Good,” smiled Raphael as Lucifer rumbled in agreement. The dark-skinned angel paused his movements and caught Castiel’s gaze. “Is this okay? Us grooming you?”

Castiel took in the worried frown and lowered wings before cautiously flicking his gaze to Lucifer, whose wings were still raised and eyes were still narrowed.

He nodded stiffly and Raphael made a happy sound and continued with the grooming session. Lucifer huffed as though he wouldn’t have accepted any other response and he shuffled closer to the omega and thrust his hands into a patch of feathers.

Once Dean had settled into the opposite couch, Michael by his side, and Gabriel and Samandriel had made themselves comfortable on the floor, Castiel began to relax inch by inch.

Sam joined them with drinks a minute later and raised an eyebrow at the odd scene but decided not to comment. He distributed drinks and took a seat on the floor beside Gabriel.

“Tell us everything,” demanded Gabriel eagerly as Sam snaked an arm around him, making Dean’s suspicions about the nature of their relationship stronger than ever.

They described the court proceedings in detail, mentioning everything about the jury’s reactions once they saw the pictures of the village folks’ arrests. They explained Ketch’s reactions once he realised that he was done for and they recalled Abaddon’s last-ditch attempts at questioning Castiel and Samandriel and her efforts to convince the jury that they were liars. They told the four angels of how the case had practically been won in twenty minutes and the rest of the time was merely Abaddon attempting, in vain, to lighten Ketch’s sentence.

Once they were finished, Castiel’s eyes were half-closed and his halo was a contented buttercup as Raphael and Lucifer massaged the thick, aching muscles beneath his feathers. Lucifer also had a hand splayed over Castiel’s stomach and was rubbing it soothingly, ridding him of the heat pains budding there.

Dean watched them idly, pleased that he wasn’t the only one caring for Castiel. He had never understood why rut-driven alphas got so possessive over omegas that they wouldn’t allow anyone else near them – especially when said omega was suffering from heat pains. Shouldn’t alphas want their omegas to feel as loved and cared-for as possible?

Not that Castiel was his omega, by any means.

Speaking of pain…

Dean rolled his shoulders uncomfortably as a sharp pain shot up his spine before his back began to ache dully. He shifted in his seat, hoping to alleviate the annoyance but his efforts were futile and the ache persisted. He scratched an itch in his arm miserably.

Michael watched him silently before smoothing a palm up and down his spine. “Rut pains?” he whispered and Dean nodded unhappily. Michael made a sympathetic sound and massaged his back as best he could with one hand and Dean sighed as the ache began to dissipate.

It was then that Dean noticed Castiel gazing at him in surprise, eyebrows raised and head tilted slightly.

“What?” Dean asked.

The omega flicked his gaze between Michael and Dean before tilting his head to the other side and reaching into his pocket for another pen and notepad he had accidentally stolen from the courtroom.

 

_I didn’t think alphas could be around other alphas during ruts._

Dean frowned at the message and glanced at the equally confused Michael. “Why? What happens when we’re in rut?” asked Dean, nonplussed. Castiel scribbled out another note.

 

_Aren’t alphas supposed to be rivals when in rut? I always believed you fought one another during ruts – especially in the presence of an omega in heat. Shouldn’t you be fighting to… ‘claim’ me?_

Dean stared at Castiel’s neat handwriting in horror and turned to Michael, who looked equally disturbed.

“I… I don’t know why you’d think any of that,” began Dean with a nauseating feeling in his stomach, “but I’d never hurt my family. Heck, on my rut I wouldn’t hurt anyone – unless it was self-defence. Like I’ve said before, our ruts don’t make us mindless monsters. We might get a bit itchy and have a few aches and pains and most of us’ll probably have a little personality change, but we don’t go around killing each other over a poor omega in heat.”

Castiel blinked, clearly shocked and Michael’s gaze softened.

“Castiel, Earth is not like the Silver City. Omegas aren’t third class citizens; they’re not treated as objects whose only purpose is to breed and clean a house.” He scowled. “Or at least they’re not supposed to be treated as such. Unfortunately, you’ve not experienced much evidence of that.”

Lucifer growled protectively and tugged Castiel into his chest, startling the omega.

“Gabriel was subjected to a lot of assholes in the Silver City,” rumbled Lucifer. “Alphas and betas who treated him like dirt beneath their shoes despite him being of as much royal blood as we were. Mother and Father never wanted him and they spoke to him the same way someone might speak to a flea-bitten dog who regularly urinates on the furniture. Our own guards made a habit of posting notes under his bedroom door, detailing all the things they’d like to do to him.”

He snaked both arms around Castiel and continued rubbing his stomach. “It’s different here. People respect him. They treat him the same way they treat any alpha or beta. He’s safe to walk the streets in heat and if anyone tried to attack him, the police would step in. Most humans are fair and just – they don’t tolerate abuse of any kind.”

“And alphas and betas are more respectful here,” added Raphael, offering the omega a kind smile. “Plus, they don’t break into messy fights over a rut or heat.” He wrinkled his nose. “Well… sometimes they do, but it’s frowned upon and they can get arrested for it.” He ran his hand through raven feathers. “Most people in the Silver City grew up to believe that omegas don’t matter and as an alpha or beta, it’s their right to do whatever they please. Alphas challenging one another over a pretty omega or handsome beta was commonplace because they grew up thinking it was how they were supposed to behave. It’s not the same here. Earth is far safer for all of us.”

Castiel relaxed into Lucifer’s chest and mulled over the new information with a thoughtful frown.

“It was a steep learning curve for us too,” Gabriel piped up quietly, chin resting on Samandriel’s head. “When Sam hit his first rut…”

Lucifer ducked his head in shame and Michael winced. Sam merely chuckled.

“When they first came to live with me and I hit my rut, Lucifer and Michael nearly beat me to a bloody pulp. They thought I would hurt Gabe. Only when they realised that I wasn’t fighting back did they figure out I just wanted some cake and good scratch.” He grinned sheepishly. “I get a really strong craving for sugar when I’m in rut.”

Gabriel hummed in agreement and leaned into his side. “Good thing my oil tastes like maple syrup.”

Sam flushed red and clamped his mouth shut as Michael curled his mouth in disgust and Lucifer made a sound of distaste.

Dean sent his brother a sharp look and Sam pretended not to notice.

“No one here is going to suddenly snap into some hormone-driven craze and try to attack you,” said Sam gently. “I promise you’re safe with all of us; you and Samandriel.” He paused and briefly glanced at Dean. “But I will have to spray the house once you leave because my brother currently reeks.”

Michael and Lucifer nodded in agreement as Dean pouted. Gabriel snorted in amusement.

“Dean smells fine. It’s Castiel who needs a hose-down.”

Castiel blinked before ducking his head apologetically at the other omega. Beside him, Raphael grinned.

“I think they both smell absolutely delightful.”

There were a few huffs of amusement and a good-natured grumble from Dean before they switched tracks and began discussing the cattle that had been unceremoniously dumped on Dean’s property.

As Dean fumed about his new acquisitions, he kept a subtle eye on Castiel and as the evening progressed, he watched the omega become more and more comfortable sandwiched between Lucifer and Raphael until eventually, he draped his wings around them and began to scent them as inconspicuously as possible.

A smile blossomed over Dean’s face and he turned his attention to Samandriel, who had become distracted by Gabriel morphing into various animals borne of both Earth and Heaven.

The thought of his angels having a real family that cared for them was a wonderful one and Dean was thrilled at the sight of both angels learning to trust so many people. They deserved as much love and kindness as they could get after all they had faced and Dean was determined to give them everything he could and more.

Now that the Ketch case was over, they could truly focus on healing and Dean was going to be with them every step of the way.

 

*             *             *

 

The weekend arrived quicker than anyone expected and Dean paused his morning ritual of getting dressed to peer through the window at the cloudless sky and the lush, sun-warmed grass. He smiled at the cattle chewing their cud and an ancient memory resurfaced; one of him and Sam racing between cows as they hid from their mother in a game of hide and seek. He huffed a laugh and ignored the ache in his heart. Memories of his mother were becoming less upsetting nowadays and tended to bring him a spark of joy (if not a hint of longing).

He continued getting ready to start the day and threw on some old work clothes before padding into living room. The smell of waffles floated out from the kitchen alongside a powerful sweet tang and Dean deduced that Castiel had hit the peak of his heat, much in the same way that Dean’s rut was at its most intense.

He spared a glance at Samandriel, who was still in his pyjamas and engrossed in Dean’s laptop screen, before heading into the kitchen to check on Castiel.

The angel wasn’t the greatest chef in the world but he could cook the basics and Dean had taught him a couple of favourites, so the angel could at least feed himself and his son a decent meal if Dean was out of the house.

“Mmm… they look good,” praised Dean as he approached the angel and spotted the three plates on the side, half-filled with golden-brown waffles – slightly lop-sided but still appetising – and garnished with a few berries.

Castiel’s halo flickered gold at Dean’s words and he offered the alpha a brief smile before pouring his concentration into working the waffle iron. A full mug of steaming coffee caught Dean’s attention and the alpha was touched that the angel had used his favourite mug (a black one with a Batman logo). He took a sip from it and hummed happily despite nearly burning his mouth.

“Thanks, Cas,” he said appreciatively and this time, the angel’s smile was a little wider.

He watched Castiel empty out the waffle iron and dribble fresh mixture into it again and whilst the angel waited for the new waffle to complete, Dean sniffed the air and basked in Castiel’s scent.

Peak rut meant peak pain and Dean’s back had been giving him trouble all morning. His neck was beginning to crick from it and his legs ached and his stomach throbbed. The shower had helped a bit but Castiel’s scent did wonders for all the pain and Dean was determined to absorb as much of his scent as possible before he headed out to give the animals some TLC.

Dean watched Castiel idly, sipping from his mug every so often but when the omega placed the final waffle on a plate and suddenly clutched at his stomach with a grimace, Dean pushed away from the counter and approached Castiel in concern.

“You alright?” he asked as he slid behind the angel. “Is it heat pain?”

Castiel nodded and took a deep breath before wincing again and holding his stomach. Dean frowned and snaked his arms around the omega, rubbing his stomach slowly as he watched Castiel’s expression fade into one of relief. Dean hooked his chin on Castiel’s shoulder and closed his eyes, revelling in the warmth from the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window and the appealing aroma of fresh waffles and _Castiel_.

Castiel allowed his head to dip backwards and Dean pressed his nose into the angel’s exposed neck, scenting and nuzzling contentedly. He chuckled when Castiel’s wings folded backwards, curling around him as best they could. Dean had quickly learned that Castiel got quite clingy during his heats and had a tendency to be a little bit needy sometimes. This suited Dean well of course, because he became very affectionate during ruts and overly protective of friends and family. Lisa had often described him as an ‘overprotective pushover’ during his ruts. She wasn’t all that wrong.

“Feel better?” asked Dean after a minute or so of rubbing Castiel’s stomach.

The angel nodded lazily and wriggled in his grasp. Dean loosened his hold and Castiel whirled around and quickly snuggled into his chest, curling impressive wings around them both and digging the heels of his palms into Dean’s back muscles. Dean groaned as hours of aching melted away and he yanked the omega closer, thrusting his hands into feathered wing bases.

They clung to one another, breathing in each other’s scents for a few blissful moments before Castiel reluctantly pulled away and presented Dean with a plate of waffles and a half-embarrassed smile.

Dean grinned back, chest light and airy as he took the plate and pottered after the angel like a lost puppy. They entered the living room and as Castiel offered his son some breakfast, Dean took the boy’s other side and peered over at the laptop screen. His eyebrows rocketed to his hairline.

“Hillcrest Elementary School?” he asked in confusion before his gaze flicked up to the numerous tabs accumulating at the top of the screen. “Cordley, Kennedy, Quail Run?” Dean blinked and snapped his gaze to Samandriel’s face. “Wait, you’re looking up schools? Do you want to go to school?”

Castiel’s eyes widened and he stared down at his son with a light frown. Samandriel slowly glanced between them and the laptop. His wings shifted uncomfortably.

“Well…” he began, rolling his shoulders almost nervously. “Now Mr. Ketch is in jail…” He paused and swallowed thickly. **_“I was thinking I could go to school and meet some humans my age. It would help my English and I’d learn so many cool new things,”_** he finished in Enochian, words speeding up in testament to his nerves. He gazed up at his father hopefully.

**_“I would still come home every day. Prince Michael and Lucifer and Raphael and Gabe… they said it’s safe for omegas to walk the streets here and I… I really want to be like all those human fledglings in the movies. They always look like they have so much fun in school and I… I want to be like everyone else. I don’t want to be ‘the fledgling who was abused by monsters’; I want to be normal. I want to be the same as all the other fledglings.”_ **

Castiel’s face twisted into an expression that looked a lot like heartbreak and he cupped his son’s cheek as his halo flashed through a multitude of colours before finally settling on a pale blue. Samandriel leaned into his father’s palm.

 ** _“Please, Dad,”_** he whispered. **_“I want to forget. Maybe school will help.”_**

Castiel’s eyes grew glassy and he carded shaking fingers through a white, speckled wing. He glanced up at Dean desperately and Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and licked his dry lips.

“Yeah, okay,” he managed, curling his hand over Samandriel’s shoulder to convince himself that the kid was safe. “Yeah, I think that’s a great idea. Which school are you thinking?”

Samandriel’s halo exploded with golden light and he beamed at Dean ecstatically. He flipped through a few tabs before settling on the one he had taken a shine to.

“Sunset Hill?” Dean hummed thoughtfully, shuffling a little closer to the young angel as he read the ‘About’ page. Castiel copied his movements and scanned through the page himself, curling a wing around his son and squeezing gently.

The remainder of the morning was spent absently munching on waffles and discussing Samandriel’s favourite schools. Eventually, they settled on Samandriel’s first choice of _Sunset Hill_ and began research into how to apply so late in the year.

Watching Samandriel’s wings flutter and his smile widen made Dean’s day and he felt excitement bubble inside him in response to the angel’s enthusiasm. He was so engrossed in Samandriel’s chatter about starting school that he barely noticed the protective black wing that curled around both him and the young angel, and he definitely missed Castiel’s warm, fond gaze that lingered on the pair of them before he returned to nodding and smiling in all the right places whenever Samandriel blurted another fact about his chosen school.

As soon as Monday rolled around, Dean would grab the nearest phone and sort Samandriel’s attendance out. If his little angel wanted to go to _Sunset Hill_ then Dean would make sure that was where he went. He wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

Samandriel deserved the best and Dean wasn’t willing to compromise on that.

 

*             *             *

 

That evening, when Samandriel had retired to bed and the clock would have chimed twelve times had it possessed any of the paraphernalia to do so, Dean found himself slumped into the couch with one arm strewn over the back and his body taking up approximately one and a half cushions. The third seat had been claimed by Castiel, who had inched his way closer and closer to the second seat throughout the evening and was currently allowing his knee to conquer its padded corner.

Dean scratched an itch at the back of his neck and pursed his lips as actress Maya Rudolph squatted over a street grid in her elegant, white wedding dress, to the horror of the onlooking dress-fitter. He thought about Lisa’s upcoming wedding and frowned as dread simmered low in his stomach.

Did he really have to attend the wedding? Would he be seen as a bad guy for ignoring the invitation? Why did Lisa even want him there anyway? Couldn’t she have just sent him an apology fruit basket or something instead?

They hadn’t even broken up amicably. Lisa had moved on quickly with her new boyfriend-now-fiancé and what had Dean done? He had moped and sulked and sobbed and been completely insufferable to everyone around him after their split. He hadn’t wanted to move on despite being the one to end their relationship and he had fallen apart the second she had moved out all of her belongings. He was a complete mess and everyone at the wedding would be able to tell the second he crashed through the doors.

A light tap on his shoulder startled him from his musings and he snapped his gaze up to concerned cerulean pools. His scent must have soured within the past few minutes for Castiel tilted his head and continued to stare unblinkingly into Dean’s eyes.

Dean had never gazed at anything that didn’t have breasts for this long but… man, Castiel was a handsome dude now that he had a bit of meat on his bones.

“I’m fine,” Dean said in response to the silent query. He even managed a small grin. “I just really hate chick-flicks.” He gestured to the TV.

Castiel popped an unimpressed eyebrow and continued to stare at Dean until the alpha coughed awkwardly and averted his gaze, only to feel Castiel’s glare practically melting his skull.

“I was thinking about Lisa’s wedding,” he admitted quietly and Castiel’s gaze immediately softened. “I don’t think I should go. I don’t _want_ to go.”

Castiel sat patiently, allowing Dean to continue and even though he would never confess to it, Dean appreciated the gesture.

“I could pretend that I lived life to the full when she left and I could pretend that her leaving didn’t affect me one bit and that I’m some fun-loving, fast-riding bachelor that scores a date every night when he goes out partying with all his buddies.” Dean frowned down at his feet. “But they’d all know I was lying. They’d all see what a broken mess I really am and they’d all talk and shake their heads at how useless and pathetic I am for not picking myself up and moving on.” He scratched his legs miserably.

A wing gingerly curled around his shoulder and Dean glanced at it briefly before flicking his gaze to Castiel’s face.

The angel stared back imploringly.

“It’s true,” insisted Dean. “They’ll all laugh and whisper about me when I’m not looking because I’m a screw-up who couldn’t even keep his own fiancée satisfied. A year on and look at me; I’m still a walking disaster.” Dean shrugged helplessly. “I’m not going. I don’t care if it’s rude or if it makes me the bad guy. I’m not showing them how I can barely hold it together. I’ll probably end up begging her to give me a second chance or something equally as stupid.”

Castiel gracefully stole the second couch seat and began to massage Dean’s aching back. The alpha closed his eyes in approval.

“Terrible idea anyway, inviting an ex to the wedding. No one really wants me there. If it’s not a pity invitation, it’s a tasteless boast. _Look how much better my life is compared to yours._ Childish. Cruel.”

Castiel inched closer until his knee was pressing against Dean’s leg and the alpha cracked an eye open to look at him. The omega gazed back at him with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips and he squeezed Dean’s shoulder gently until he had the alpha’s full attention.

 _‘Go,’_ signed Castiel.

Dean raised an eyebrow, unconsciously shifting closer to the angel. “Go? To the wedding? Why should I?”

 _‘Close,’_ signed Castiel with a small, irritated frown.

It took a moment for Dean to make sense of the response. “Closure,” he said, quickly reminded of how limited the angel’s ASL capabilities were. “You think it’ll be closure for me.”

Castiel nodded and glanced down at where their legs were currently brushing one another. His hands moved a little slower this time, unsure and cautious. He had to repeat the gesture twice more before Dean grasped it.

_‘I can come if you like?’_

Dean’s face brightened; a weight easing off his chest. “Can you? You and Samandriel? I really don’t wanna go alone.”

Castiel’s lips curved into a pleased smile and he placed his hands in his lap and nodded, wings fluttering lightly.

Dean felt his own grin widen and he reached out to toy with a few silky feathers. “Maybe it won’t be so bad with you guys there to back me up. And hey, free cake, right?”

Castiel’s eyes sparkled with amusement, halo glinting a joyous gold and Dean’s chest suddenly felt tight, as though his heart was trying to punch its way out of his rib cage.

Maybe Sam was right about his junk-food habits leading to an early grave. Was this what a heart attack felt like?

Castiel dropped his gaze and Dean was immediately disappointed.

“Thanks for helping out with the animals today,” he said, mainly because he wanted the omega to look at him again. Castiel obliged and Dean felt his own smile return. “I mean… I know you do it all the time but I don’t thank you enough so… thanks. Y’know, for making things easier on me.”

Castiel blinked at him placidly and Dean carded his fingers through a glossy wing, mouth beginning to move in time with his thoughts.

“It’s been so long since this place has had any real life in it,” he mused quietly, watching his own fingers dance over onyx feathers. “It’s nice to hear the cattle calling again. Nice to have someone making use of those old, dusty bedrooms again.” His brows furrowed slightly as a faint memory of fire and ash sunk its painful claws into his mind. That terrible stench of burning flesh…

When he returned to himself, Castiel was gazing at him worriedly and he seemed a lot closer than he had been a moment ago. He managed a small smile and shrugged the memory off as though it didn’t affect him.

“Although I’ll probably take that back once you and Samandriel hit your moulting season,” he teased because Winchesters dealt best with emotions by hiding them with humour.

Of course, Castiel saw right through his deflection and the corners of his mouth turned subtly downwards. He reached up and combed his fingers through Dean’s hair and Dean almost recoiled from the weird gesture but- wow, okay. That felt safe and comforting and far better than any warm, golden, freshly-baked apple pie on a Summer evening could ever be, and could Castiel never stop, please?

He made a pathetic noise and slumped into the angel’s side, eyes slipping shut.

Was it even possible for anyone to smell this incredible?

He wrapped his arms around Castiel and nosed at his neck at the angel continued to stroke his hair. As he scented and nuzzled at the omega, it dawned on him that Castiel was grooming him. Since he didn’t have wings, the angel was making do with what he could. The though made Dean hum in contentment; he liked the idea of his angel taking care of him.

Castiel carefully curled his wings around Dean and wriggled until they could scent one another to their hearts’ desires. Dean knew that their rut and heat were playing a large part in their current mindset but he decided that he didn’t care. It had been so long since anyone had taken care of him and even longer since anyone had shown a scrap of affection for Castiel; if they could offer one another even a modicum of reprieve, then why should he try to deny it?

He tightened his grip on the angel, one hand buried in a wing as the other fisted the back of his shirt. Castiel seemed to mould himself around Dean, fingers tugging gently at his hair and sending the alpha’s pulse racing as he inhaled the omega’s scent deep enough to fill the entirety of his lungs with French vanilla, sea salt and mandarin. His movements were quickly copied by Castiel and before either of them realised, they were clutching at one another desperately, refusing to loosen their grip in fear of the other pulling away.

Dean’s breaths were shaky as he clung to the angel, mind filled with recaps of his mother’s death, his father’s listlessness and eventual grief-stricken demise, and Lisa’s heart-wrenching betrayal. Castiel held him just as tightly, scraping his fingernails over Dean’s scalp and attempting to push closer.            

Dean slowly leaned backwards, pulling Castiel with him as he stretched over the couch and allowed the angel to sprawl on top of him. They readjusted themselves so that they could lie down comfortably and still hold one another and after a few minutes of scenting and gentle petting, Dean began tracing scars hidden beneath black feathers.

Castiel observed him with idle curiosity before snaking a possessive arm around the alpha’s middle.

“I freakin’ love your wings,” whispered Dean without thinking and Castiel’s feathers abruptly fluffed up like those of a baby bird.

Dean chuckled and nuzzled his angel’s cheek. “Well, that’s not adorable.”

Castiel huffed softly and fisted Dean’s hair in half-hearted reprimand.

Dean released a whimper and realised that he might have a _thing_ for people tugging his hair. His cheeks took on a rosy hue and he found he couldn’t meet Castiel’s gaze. The problem only intensified when Castiel obliviously nuzzled into his neck for another round of scenting and Dean suddenly noticed that one of Castiel’s legs was between his, lying precariously close to his aching crotch.

Dean mentally cursed his rut.

He decided to ignore the problem for the time being because he really didn’t want to let go of Castiel, but the omega’s proximity only intensified the issue and when Castiel stretched to ease the pain in his back, his knee slid against Dean’s steadily-forming erection and there was no mistaking the alpha’s arousal.

Castiel froze and snapped his gaze down to Dean’s crotch, which only made the alpha squirm in shame. The angel slowly dragged his eyes to Dean’s face and the alpha focused on a mark at the edge of the couch cushion, cheeks burning in mortification.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “I really can’t help it.”

To his surprise, Castiel didn’t immediately bolt from the room. He eyed Dean’s tented jeans warily for a few moments before tossing his leg over Dean’s hip until he was straddling the alpha. He stared at Dean for a long minute before cautiously lowering himself down onto the alpha’s overheating body and buried his face into Dean’s neck – out of embarrassment or fear, Dean wasn’t sure.

Dean didn’t dare even twitch as Castiel settled on top of him, wings flicking in clear nervousness, but when the angel merely lay there, Dean carefully slid his arms around him and held him securely. Seconds ticked by in silence and then, all of a sudden, Castiel gently rocked his hips against Dean’s and the alpha was treated to the sensation of a half-formed erection grazing his own.

Dean had never had a partner with a penis before but he briefly wondered if he had been missing out on something magical all these years.

Dean’s thoughts were derailed when Castiel arched his back slightly and rubbed slick-soaked jeans over his crotch. He gasped and clutched at a wing as Castiel pressed harder and deeper, face still hidden in Dean’s neck.

For a few blissful moments, Dean allowed instincts to triumph over logic and he closed his eyes and rocked his hips upwards, revelling in the sensations and smells of Castiel’s slick-drenched clothes.

Then he caught sight of the white halo.

He stilled his hips and stroked the angel’s spine. “Cas, stop,” he whispered when Castiel ground down on him insistently. When the angel didn’t, Dean squeezed him gently and carded his fingers through dark hair.

“Cas, stop it,” he whispered firmly, snaking an arm around his waist. “Don’t do this.”

Something cool and damp seeped into the skin of his neck and Dean felt the angel’s shoulders begin to shake. He petted the omega’s hair.

“Sshh, it’s okay. I don’t want anything from you. You’re safe, I promise,” Dean cooed and Castiel clutched his shirt, silent sobs worsening.

A wave of protectiveness swept over Dean and he rolled onto his side until the angel was boxed in between his body and the couch. He wrapped himself around Castiel as best he could and forced the omega to meet his gaze. He brushed the other man’s tears away with his thumb and frowned worriedly.

“What was all that about?” he asked quietly, refusing to let Castiel hide his face again.

Castiel hesitated but eventually gestured for a pencil and, unwilling to relinquish his current position embracing the angel, Dean fished his phone out of his pocket and opened the texting app.

Castiel blinked and began to type, wing awkwardly leaning into the alpha’s warm touch. He typed for at least five minutes before reluctantly revealing the message.

 

_I’m sorry. I know you’re not like all those alphas at Ketch’s, but it’s a reflex. Before, if I didn’t respond to an alpha in rut by allowing them to… You get the idea. If I didn’t respond, I risked pain to both my own body and Samandriel’s – whether by the customer’s hand or Ketch’s, it didn’t matter. Your rut is making those memories resurface and whilst I understand that you don’t expect anything of me, I still feel as though I have to please you._

_Another part of me – a more primitive part – is begging me to satisfy my heat. Your designation and rut marks you as a suitable outlet for that and my instinct is to present to you and let you take what you want from me. I’m at peak heat and everything aches and throbs and I know a knot can take all that away so every time I’m near you, my body produces even more slick than usual._

_The final part of me is repulsed by the thought of allowing you to even touch me. I think of everything that alphas have done to me and Samandriel and I’m sickened by the thought of sharing a couch with you. I want to hate you, hurt you, keep you away from my son and whenever I look at you, I feel my throat close up with fear and I want to scream at you but I can’t because alphas took my voice away as well as my dignity. Alphas mutilated my body and broke my mind and in some sick twist of fate, I’ve been signed over to another alpha who could hurt me all over again._

_So, I’m in agony because of everything that alphas have done to me, but I’m also in agony because I haven’t got an alpha to help me through my heat. My mind is fractured because I have suffered unimaginable abuse from alphas, but my instincts are begging me to seek out a knot. Alphas have broken me, yet I need one so desperately._

Dean swore under his breath and jerked away from Castiel but the angel gripped his shirt and yanked him closer again with a wide-eyed expression.

‘Don’t go,’ he mouthed frantically and Dean stared at him as though he had just admitted to hating pie.

“I don’t… If you’re so scared of me, let me up and I’ll keep away from you. I’ll try not to speak to you. I’ll stay away from Samandriel. I’ll… I’ll never touch you again. I’ll-”

Castiel was shaking his head rapidly, gaze glassy as he clutched tighter at Dean’s shirt and then his shoulders.

‘No. Please, no,’ Castiel begged silently, fingers grasping Dean’s skin hard enough to bruise.

“I… I don’t understand,” whined Dean, heart pumping faster and faster in a mixture of fear of losing the angel, fear of terrifying him, and utter confusion as to what Castiel wanted from him.

Castiel rattled out a message on Dean’s phone and practically shoved it in front of the alpha’s face with trembling hands.

_I need you. I need you to show me how to trust again. I need you to take care of Samandriel when I’m not strong enough to. I need you to be there for him when he breaks. I need you to tell me that we’re safe. I need you to hold us both and show us that not all alphas are cruel. I need you to groom my wings and tell me that it’s okay to touch and be touched. I need you to take care of me when the nightmares become too much. I need you to get rid of all my fear and hatred and hurt, and turn me back into the person I used to be._

_I need you to fix me._

Dean gaped at his phone for a few seconds before a deep growl was torn from his chest and he tucked the angel’s head into his neck again and clung to him desperately.

“I’ll try,” he breathed reverently. “I’ll do whatever you need me to do, Cas. Even if it takes the rest of my life, I’ll never give up on you.”

Castiel released a heavy breath and curled into the alpha, slipping his wings around them both as he clutched at Dean’s shirt. Dean nuzzled his hair for a few quiet moments before gently squeezing him.

Come to bed,” Dean whispered. “I’ll get you some clean PJs.”

Castiel paused but eventually nodded and allowed Dean to pull him to his feet. He blushed and attempted to hide his face when Dean’s gaze slid up and down his body, grazing over the wet patch between his legs, but Dean didn’t comment and instead led the angel into his bedroom. He offered Castiel a pair of his own pyjamas (because there was some primitive part of his brain that was desperate to see the omega in his slightly oversized clothes) and the angel took them gratefully.

Dean pretended to not notice Castiel’s subtle scenting of his pyjamas.

He gave the omega some privacy to change and darted into the bathroom and once he resurfaced, the alpha within him purred at the sight of Castiel settling into his pillows – far more comfortable than he had looked earlier.

Dean smiled and crawled under the covers before tugging Castiel closer and rubbing his stomach soothingly. Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed against Dean, returning to stroking the aches out of his back.

Dean hummed with contentment and flipped the light off.

He would fix Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some fluff ;)


	16. Here Comes The Bride

_Both of them being in heat at the same time had been exhausting. Work wasn’t much of a distraction and whilst their colleagues barely reacted to their enticing pheromones, the general public were all too enthusiastic to start groping and chasing them. Castiel hadn’t been able to ride the train in two weeks because the first day of his heat had seen three alphas pin him to a wall and attempt to tear his clothes off. No one had helped him when he had begged for them to leave him alone and he was just lucky that Balthazar and Gadreel had jumped into his carriage at their stop and spotted his face crushed against a window. A rather large fight had ensued and Balthazar and Gadreel had left the train bloodied and bruised and snarling at anyone who even looked at the omega wedged between them._

_For two weeks, Gadreel had driven them all to work and Castiel hadn’t stopped apologising for both the inconvenience of his heat and the wounds his friends were suffering from (that he was convinced were entirely his fault)._ _Being the amazing friends that they were, Balthazar and Gadreel merely shook their heads and told Castiel that he could never be a bother and their wounds had nothing to do with him._

_He had practically lived with Hannah for the duration of their heats, since being alone in such a state was decidedly unappealing. The scent of one another helped to ease the pain a little, but sex helped a lot more, which was why they had christened every surface in Hannah’s house with their naked bodies._

_This wasn’t their first heat together and neither of them planned on it being their last, which meant that when Castiel, in a burst of passion, asked Hannah to be his mate, Hannah agreed without hesitation._

_Yes,” she hissed as Castiel filled her over and over in a fast rhythm. “Yes, I’ll be your mate.”_

_She clutched at his back, nails scratching at his skin deliciously. He growled in approval and nipped hotly at her neck as he thrust into her. She groaned and stretched her wings wide over the bed in offering and he lay his own over them._

_She reached out a hand and pushed a finger into one of his oil glands and he moaned and began to fondle her breast in encouragement. She slipped a second finger in and scissored his gland open until oil began to trickle out of it, dripping into her feathers. She whimpered and rubbed at his gland until the oil flowed faster and he was left whining at her touch._

_He pressed a thumb into her opposite wing and she rolled her hips against him as he stimulated her oil._

_“Castiel,” she begged, silently asking for him to go harder, quicker, rougher. He obliged, holding onto her hip with his free hand as he shoved into her harshly, thumb matching the rhythm of his hips._

_She cried out softly and arched her back, breasts bouncing against her chest and far too tempting for Castiel to resist sucking. As soon as his mouth wrapped around a nipple, she made a breathy sound and collected some of her own leaking oil and smeared it over Castiel’s puffy labium before sinking two fingers inside him._

_He gasped and claimed her lips, tangling their tongues frantically as he flattened his wings against hers, the oil spreading over one another’s feathers and mixing together to create a distinctive scent._

_She cursed when he found her sweet spot and he hit it again, over and over until her abdominal muscles tightened against him and she curled her fingers inside him. One last thrust and she groaned his name, slick flooding her thighs as her body clenched around him, holding him inside her and milking his pleasure out of him. As he spilled into the condom, she pressed her fingers deeper and slick rushed out of him, staining the bed sheets._

_He rolled off her and they snuggled close, smelling of one another and smiling as their heat pains vanished._

_“Love you,” Hannah whispered, kissing his jaw tenderly. He curled his wings around her and kissed her temple._

_“I love you too,” he murmured, idly smoothing his own oil into her silky feathers. “Are you sure you’re happy with this? With us mating? I realise I sprang it on you.” His hand paused, waiting for confirmation to continue marking her, to continue claiming her with his scent._

_Her eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him. “I want you,” she breathed, brushing her fingers down his cheek. She shifted her wings until she could wrap them around Castiel and they were both cocooned in a blanket of black and grey-blue feathers. She began collecting her own oil and grooming it through Castiel’s wings and Castiel closed his eyes and basked in the sensation of being marked before returning the favour. He had waited so long for this moment. By the time morning arrived, everyone would know exactly what they meant to each other. There was no going back now; they would reek of one another tomorrow._

_They would, of course, have to renew the scent claims each week at first as they would eventually fade. But the more they groomed one another in their oil, the more their scents would be absorbed and eventually, there would be an underlying aroma of one another that would never be washed away._

_Castiel couldn’t wait for that day._

_After twenty minutes or so, Hannah grimaced and shifted against him. They hadn’t quite completed their scent claim but the stickiness between their legs was becoming rather uncomfortable and Castiel understood her silent plea to clean up._

_He untangled her from his wings and she smiled at him gratefully. “I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll throw you a cloth.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and grimaced. “And I’ll use the toilet.”_

_He chuckled and she flicked his arm playfully before hobbling to the bathroom and tossing a damp washcloth at his face. “Hey, at least I remembered the condom this time!” he called and she huffed a laugh._

_“I know! You’ve been good this heat! Haven’t forgotten a single round.”_

_He sat up as the door swung shut and began to clean himself off. “I only forgot that one time,” he said, smiling when he heard Hannah scoff._

_“Let me enjoy my pee in peace!”_

_He laughed and began changing the bed sheets. This heat had been rough on both of them so it was nice to joke around for once. Hannah had been quite ill these past couple of weeks, sometimes throwing up in the morning or suffering from severe stomach pains and back aches. Truthfully, she hadn’t been quite right since her last heat nearly six months ago and she hadn’t been sure if she had been suffering from some low-level infection. She had certainly felt grumpier than usual, but Castiel had suggested that maybe she was a little run-down from work and the explanation had seemed sufficient for her not to question it again – she did work very hard after all and was prone to staying in the office after hours to finish off cases. She had decided to cut down on her overtime and hadn’t thought much about it._

_This heat had felt different to her others, however. Less accidents involving slick and more deep aching throughout her body, particularly her back. She seemed to eat more too and she suffered from cravings for spicy foods despite not being a huge spice fan normally. The only thing she could think of was her body was changing as she was getting older._

_Castiel straightened out the bed sheets and dumped their discarded clothes in the laundry basket. When Hannah still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom, he frowned and tilted his head._

_“Han? You alright?”_

_There was some shuffling and a quiet curse._

_Castiel’s wings twitched worriedly and he knocked on the door. “Hannah? Can I come in? Is everything alright?”_

_A breathy sob startled him and he barged through the door, wings wide with panic. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”_

_Hannah huddled into herself on the toilet, cheeks stained with tear tracks as she held up a small device that she used at the end of all her heats. Castiel himself had never used one but Hannah had always had one handy at the end of her heats merely because her mother had used them in the same way._

_There were two blue lines visible on the device’s narrow window._

_“I’m pregnant,” she whimpered._

_Castiel held onto the sink to stop himself from crashing to the tiled floor. No, no, no… this couldn’t be happening._

_“But… but we used protection. It’s only been two weeks… the device must be faulty! It says on the box that it can’t detect anything less than eighteen days.”_

_“Then it must be from our last heat!” Hannah cried. “I must be nearly six months.”_

_Castiel shook his head frantically, heat crawling up his skin. “We would’ve noticed. You don’t even look pregnant!”_

_“It’s my first time!” Hannah snapped. “I won’t show!” She glanced at her stomach and gulped. “I’ve put on weight.”_

_“You can’t be,” whispered Castiel. “We’ve been so careful. Maybe it’s a false positive.” He ran a hand through his hair shakily, breaths picking up speed. He couldn’t be a father. He didn’t want to be a father. Neither of them wanted children._

_Tears rolled down Hannah’s cheeks. “I need another test,” she said before waving her hand at the cupboard under the sink. “Pass me another test.”_

_Castiel did so and she ran it again._

_Positive._

_She sobbed and dropped the device on the floor, letting her head fall into her hands. “This can’t be happening,” she whined._

_Eyes wide, Castiel slid down the wall, heart racing. They had never wanted children. They had never wanted to give up their jobs or baby-proof their house. They hadn’t wanted to raise a child in a world where omegas were treated like filth; violated in the streets and disrespected by every alpha and beta they met._

_…What if the child was a beta, or worse; an alpha? Would it grow to treat them like every other alpha did? Would it think of them as third-rate citizens? Would it try to prove its authority over them? Hit them and degrade them? Would it grow to hate them like the rest of the world hated omegas?_

_“We can abort it,” said Castiel hurriedly. “No one has to know.”_

_Hannah shot him a withering glare. “No one will give us an abortion. All the doctors are alphas or betas. Omega abortion is illegal. Producing fledglings is our only function, remember?” she said bitterly, eying her own stomach in disgust. “And I’m not going to a backstreet abortionist and trusting them to not ruin my body.”_

_Castiel racked his skull for ideas. “Then carry it to term and we’ll dump it in an adoption centre.”_

_Hannah snorted. “No one will take it from us. We’re both omegas – they’ll expect us to raise it. We could be put in prison for abandonment and neglect!”_

_“Then we’ll leave it on their doorstep in the middle of the night!” Castiel snapped. “No one will know where it’s come from!”_

_Hannah stared at him in surprise before her gaze tracked to her stomach again. She nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, we’ll do that.”_

_Castiel let his head bump into the cold wall tiles. “Three months. We have to get through three months and then we’ll never deal with the thing again.”_

*             *             *

 

By the time the wedding date crept up on him, his rut was coming to an end; Castiel’s heat along with it.

The day Lisa had picked was a perfect one – with clear blue skies and a bright sun that radiated warmth without burning. There was a gentle breeze that barely managed to rustle a few leaves and the birds soared around excitedly; taking advantage of the good weather.

Dean stared at the reflection of his own face in the bathroom mirror, brows drawn together miserably. He tugged at his tie and scowled when it still refused to sit straight. His gaze wandered back to his own eyes and the tired dark circles spreading beneath them. His hair had decided to fight him today and as such, it looked as though he had just ruffled a hand through it instead of actually trying to sort it into some semblance of order for ten minutes.

He looked stressed.

He sighed quietly and pottered out of the bathroom, gaze low and tie dangling awkwardly from his neck. He had to leave in a few minutes if he wanted to make it to the ceremony on time.

Maybe he should bail?

He startled when he bumped into something that definitely wasn’t furniture. He blinked and met Castiel’s equally surprised gaze before the angel frowned and reached out careful hands to fix his tie. Dean remained still and allowed Castiel to straighten his outfit and once he was satisfied, Castiel stepped backwards to roll his gaze over Dean’s form. Then his nose wrinkled in distaste.

Castiel’s nostrils flared and he leaned closer to sniff in Dean’s general vicinity. He recoiled quickly and scrunched his face up.

Dean eyed him drily. “I guess I’ll put on some cologne, huh?”

Castiel’s mouth drew into a thin line and he frowned again before taking a step closer and scenting at the alpha. As Castiel’s own sweet, tangy scent washed over him, Dean closed his eyes and felt his body start to relax. There were so many good feelings associated with that scent – warmth, comfort, home, friendship, safety…

Without hesitation, Dean crowded into Castiel’s space and inhaled deeply. Castiel placed a gentle hand on his arm and when Dean sheepishly pulled back, the omega was smiling at him, fond amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

Suddenly, Dean was being led towards the bathroom once more. He watched Castiel rifle through the cupboard, periodically sniffing at sprays and colognes before putting them away again. Finally, he settled on a small red bottle that Dean couldn’t even remember buying and pressed it into Dean’s hands.

“You think this one’s gonna cover up my stink?” Dean teased as he made use of the cologne.

Castiel’s lips twitched before he pulled a small notepad out of his suit pocket.

 

_You smell distressed._

Dean’s expression faded a little as he read the note. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Ex-fiancé’s wedding and all that,” he mumbled.

Castiel scowled and shook his head before scribbling out another message.

 

_Her loss._

“Is it?” sighed Dean. “And here I thought it was mine. I’m the one living in a run-down farm, alone at 32, no family and no social life outside my job.”

Except… he wasn’t really, was he? His house wasn’t smoke-stained and riddled with dust anymore – not after Samandriel and Castiel had started working on it. There were real, live animals wandering the grounds again and Dean was never really alone; not when he had two angels to take care of and heal. Or maybe it was them who were healing him, he thought as he remembered breaking down in front of Samandriel and being held by the little angel as he sobbed over his ex. And Castiel had aided him through his rut despite being so terrified of alphas, just holding Dean and rubbing his stomach and back when the pain became too much. Maybe signing the angels’ papers had been what he needed all along to get out of his depressive funk.

Dean realised there was a note being shoved in front of his face.

 

_I realise that I am not the easiest person to live with, but I didn’t know I’d been downgraded to part of the furniture._

Dean felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth and he caught Castiel’s marginally offended gaze. “Okay, okay, maybe ‘alone’ isn’t the right word…”

A hasty scribble.

 

_Are you sure? Maybe I’m just a lamp in disguise. A footstool perhaps? What about a hat rack?_

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Quit your complaining. I get it. Maybe my life doesn’t suck as much as I thought it did. You guys are pretty awesome.”

Castiel’s lips twitched into a smile and Dean found himself drinking in the sight of the omega in the smart, charcoal suit he had bought a couple of days previous. The fabric glistened slightly under the bathroom lights and highlighted his bright sapphire irises, giving them a soft, warm appearance. His hair was far less chaotic than usual and Dean’s fingers itched to card through the dark tufts, to ruffle them and spread his scent amongst them. It was a dangerous thought – it wasn’t his place to scent mark Castiel, yet he wanted to do it anyway. He considered the angel his family and the instinct to mark grew stronger with every smile of Castiel’s, every fond glance, every raised eyebrow, every roll of his eyes.

Castiel cocked his head in silent query at Dean’s long pause and the alpha briefly admired how adorable he looked before shaking the thoughts from his skull and holding his palms out.

“Better?” he asked, watching as Castiel grasped his hand lightly and pressed his nose to his wrist. He took a moment to fully scent Dean and the alpha licked his dry lips and had to prevent his free hand from combing through Castiel’s hair.

Eventually, Castiel drew back and nodded at him, pleased and Dean blamed his own bloom of happiness on the lingering hormones of his rut and its determination to make him want to impress omegas and betas.

“Awesome,” he grinned, scent giving away his pride. “Is Samandriel ready?”

Castiel’s gaze flicked over him in approval once more before he nodded and gestured towards the door. As Dean followed him into the living room and was treated to an enthusiastic “Wow, you look nice,” from Samandriel, he realised that he wasn’t too upset at the prospect of seeing his ex anymore.

 

*             *             *

 

The venue was… impressive to say the least. The happy couple hadn’t gone for the traditional church setting, they had picked a towering cathedral complete with elegant artwork and intricate sculptures of angels and prophets. There was a vast number of attendees, most of them nodding their heads in approval at their surroundings and a small few glaring at the groom in jealousy of his apparent wealth. A red carpet was laid down the aisle and candles and a colourful array of flowers decorated the pews and walls.

It was magnificent and strangely tasteful despite the overkill of hosting a ceremony in a cathedral.

The corners of Dean’s mouth drew down in unhappiness as he made his way into the cathedral. His heart ached with longing as he drank in the elegance and he felt a strange sort of guilt as a vague hint of his own rut pheromones wafted into the air and mingled with the delicate aromas of cinnamon Yankee candles. An omega behind him gave him an appreciative look but he didn’t notice as he settled into a pew, arranging Samandriel between himself and Castiel. The young omega woman furrowed her brow in disappointment and sat in the opposite row.

“Why did I come here?” Dean sighed, half to himself and half to the angels. He watched Darius straighten out his suit. Dean was loathe to admit that it was a nice-looking suit.

He startled when a hand gripped his and he looked down to find Samandriel smiling at him encouragingly, fingers tangled with his. Dean’s gaze softened and he squeezed the little angel’s hand in gratitude.

A note landed in his lap, adorned with Castiel’s neat script.

 

_Lisa certainly downgraded her taste in men after you._

Dean barked out a startled laugh and quickly covered his mouth with his hand when a few other guests turned to him in query.

“Cas!” he hissed with a pleased grin. “You can’t say that at her wedding.”

Castiel stared at him innocently before cocking his head at Darius once again. The other alpha checked his watch and made a strange face before trying to subtly pick his teeth with a fingernail. Castiel’s hands began to dance and flutter in front of him.

 _‘I have seen roadkill with more sex appeal,’_ he signed.

Dean bit back a snort and flicked Castiel’s shoulder in light scolding. “Stop it,” he whispered. “We’ve not come to poke fun at the ceremony.”

Castiel offered him a raised eyebrow.

Dean averted his gaze quickly and pretended not to notice Castiel’s smug smile.

 ** _“I bet he can’t make burgers like you can,”_** muttered Samandriel, narrowing a judgemental glare at Darius.

Dean’s mouth curled into a grin and he slid an arm around both angels and hoped they understood how grateful he was for their support. The corners of his eyes crinkled when Samandriel leaned into him. Bringing both angels was the best decision he could have made and his remaining rut pheromones simmered down in contentment as the alpha side of him purred with pride.

Suddenly, the man in front of Dean twisted in his seat and glared at Samandriel. He was smartly dressed and bore a variety of expensive-looking jewellery and trinkets. Despite being a beta, he had a nasty scent to him that made Dean wrinkle his nose.

“Since you’re in America, you should learn to speak the language,” the stranger snapped in hushed tones, heated glare lingering on the shocked Samandriel for a moment too long. The young angel cowered slightly, halo edging through silver and bordering on white and he shrunk in his seat, staring up at the older man with wide eyes.

Before Castiel even had a chance to raise his wings in warning, Dean growled deep in his chest and fixed the beta with a fiery gaze, his rut-driven instincts demanding he drag the beta outside and break his teeth for threatening his family. The more logical side of his brain persuaded him to stay seated.

“Watch it, buddy,” Dean rumbled, just loud enough to gather the attention of both of their rows. “That’s my kid you’re talking to.”

The beta frowned between Samandriel’s wings and Dean’s obviously human body. He looked ready to argue but was suddenly interrupted by his wife, who hissed “ _Colin!_ ” and yanked on his blazer until he was facing forwards again. Dean growled once more for good measure and carded his fingers through Samandriel’s soft wings.

By the time Dean’s surge of protectiveness died down, he felt two sets of eyes burning holes into the side of his face and he turned to find Samandriel and Castiel staring at him in astonishment.

“What?” he asked.

Castiel blinked, eyes somehow growing rounder, but Samandriel’s expression broke out into a grin and he shook his head.

“Nothing,” he replied before wriggling into Dean’s side with a contented purr.

Dean cocked an eyebrow at Castiel but the angel merely continued to stare at him in surprise, so Dean shook his head and massaged Samandriel’s wing, waiting for the ceremony to start.

When Lisa finally appeared, clad in a long, flowing ivory gown spattered with diamantes and delicate lace, Dean felt his jaw clench. A string quartet launched into the overplayed melody of _Canon in D_ and Lisa glided up the aisle, her father smiling as he took her by the elbow and led her to her soon-to-be husband. She didn’t even notice Dean.

Dean’s chest was tight as he ground his teeth together hard enough to hurt. He watched her come to a halt in front of her lover, their eyes sparkling and smiles wide with unadulterated joy and Lisa’s belly slightly swollen with the tiny life she was carrying. Suddenly, Dean wanted to leave. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t watch the only person he had ever loved marry someone else. He couldn’t gaze at her body knowing that she was carrying someone else’s child – a child he had wanted for a fair few years now but had always been refused.

His breaths stuttered and he eyed the exit wildly, wondering if anyone would notice if he slipped out now.

A huge wing slid around him and a hand clutched harder at his own. He flicked his gaze first to Samandriel to find the young omega staring up at him with a sad smile, before glancing to Castiel who stared back calmly and curled his wing a little tighter around Dean’s shoulder.

Samandriel patted his knee before snuggling back into his side and Dean’s throat grew tight at the sight. He wrapped an arm around the boy and swallowed down his feelings of nausea as Lisa and Darius began their vows.

He missed Castiel’s fond glance but managed a small smile when onyx feathers brushed his side.

Maybe he could get through this.

The ceremony dragged on for what felt like a lifetime in Dean’s opinion, but was probably a standard-length wedding. When the couple finally said _‘I do’_ , Dean was pretty sure that someone had stabbed him in the heart with a sharpened icicle. Pain flourished in his chest, sweeping through his veins as sickness crawled up his throat like a vile, gargantuan slug. His fingers curled into the material of his trousers and he swallowed around the lump clawing its way towards his mouth.

Beside him, Castiel wrinkled his nose and turned to Dean with a concerned gaze. He reached out gingerly to card his fingers through the alpha’s hair and, as though a switch had been flipped, Dean suddenly began to relax into the gentle grooming.

“You smell awful,” whispered Samandriel, almost sounding distressed and Dean grimaced and held the young angel a fraction tighter.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, glancing at Castiel in silent gratitude.

The ceremony ended quickly after that and Dean eyed the exit like a feral cat waiting for its chance to escape an overly-affectionate human. Fortunately, Castiel and Samandriel were there to prevent him from leaving before the bride and groom, but he didn’t linger much longer. He practically threw himself into the car and only barely managed to convince himself that driving home was rude and disrespectful after he had RSVP’d that he would attend the reception.

He made it to the venue with only minor discomfort from having both angels stare at him for the entirety of the ride. He took a deep breath before stepping out of the car and surveying the new location.

A hotel. Pretty, with its multitude of LEDs scattered under the porches and in the outdoor fountain, but still a hotel in the centre of the city; where litter tumbled over the streets and horns honked from passing cars.

Sure, the hotel looked sophisticated and immaculate with its reception lined with highly polished granite tiles and contemporary furniture, but guests continued to bumble about their afternoon, luggage in hand and ill-fitting shorts revealing far too much flesh.

Brows furrowing, Dean pulled a face. Darius had pulled him apart for living in a converted barn but how was this any better? It certainly wasn’t Dean’s idea of a wedding reception.

He glanced at Castiel and Samandriel, whom looked particularly dismayed upon having a morbidly obese beta’s ass crack shoved in their faces as the man leaned down to retie his shoe. They scuttled over to Dean with put-out expressions and Dean felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips.

Eventually, a bellboy escorted them to a private dining area, where the actual reception would take place. Whilst it was a pleasant room, with white lace bows decorating every chair and soft, glowing lanterns perched on every sparkling table cloth, Dean found the whole place… anti-climactic. Where was the band? Where was the celebratory atmosphere?

More importantly, where was the buffet?

Dean flicked his gaze around the room with pouting lips. There was no buffet in sight and furthermore, no cake. What was the point of coming here if there were no finger foods? He hadn’t planned on having to order off a small, pretentious menu card – he had no interest in pancetta sticks dressed with pomegranate seeds and a savoury foam. Where were the burgers? The chicken wings?

Once presents for the happy couple had been deposited on a small table at the back of the room (Dean decided to go down the route of presents for the baby i.e. diapers, because he might not have been on the best of terms with Lisa and Darius, but that didn’t mean that their unborn kid had to suffer), they were seated in an ineffable order that apparently made no sense to anyone but the bride and groom, and Castiel stiffened when Samandriel was ushered away onto a separate ‘children’s’ table. He glanced desperately at Dean and the alpha made to ask one of the staff if it would be possible to seat Samandriel a little closer than the opposite corner of the room. Unfortunately, he was blatantly ignored.

Castiel ground his teeth together and took his seat, gaze fixed on Samandriel’s unhappy form as he was forced to mingle with the other human children.

Dean massaged Castiel’s shoulder apologetically and the angel calmed a little, but was still clearly on edge. Dean wondered when they had become so tactile with one another.

When Dean finally turned to assess the other occupants of the table, he noticed a familiar face and stiffened angrily.

Colin, the grumpy old beta from the cathedral, narrowed his eyes at Dean before glancing over Castiel’s tense form with distaste.

There was a small group of people in the world who believed that angels and demons shouldn’t be allowed to reside on Earth. An even smaller part of this group were quite vocal about this and had created deplorable slurs meant to humiliate and degrade the angels and demons they referred to, similar to the racial slurs that had been circulating the Earth for decades.

There were multiple slurs used to single out angels and demons, but the most common ones were gooseskin and leathertail. Gooseskin because angels bore feathers like geese, yet had bare skin like humans; leathertail because demon’s wings were leathery, and they had a tail. The sorts of people who used slurs like these tended not to be particularly clever.

Still, the terms were malicious and many angels and demons were aware that they weren’t exactly compliments.

Colin crossed his arms. “Great. Gooseskins at human weddings now.”

Dean snarled, baring his teeth at the greying man. “Are we gonna have a problem?” From the corner of his eye, he caught Castiel’s wings sinking lower behind his back, halo creeping towards silver.

Colin sneered at them both. “We already have a problem. An infestation problem.” He eyed Castiel and his wife smacked his arm with a hissed warning, but Colin ignored her. The rest of the table watched on warily, shifting in their seats as they planned out their easiest escape routes.

Dean matched the challenge in his tone and leaned forwards in a typical alpha intimidation gesture. This jerk wasn’t allowed to spew insults about his angels.

“Yeah? You see anyone else here being a xenophobic dick?”

Colin’s face twisted with fury and he clenched his fingers around the knife set furthest from his plate. His wife hissed something at him but Colin growled out a warning and she fell silent. Dean leaned back slightly as he watched the old beta finger the knife. He could feel Castiel staring at him worriedly and a hand crept onto his thigh and squeezed, begging him not to engage with the beta.

Dean had never been very good at stepping away from confrontation.

“I’m here to support Darius,” said Colin lowly. “I don’t know why you or that feathered whore are here, but do us all a favour and don’t let the bitch moult into the soup, yeah?”

Castiel winced and lowered his gaze submissively and Dean fumed.

“The only one with a problem is you. You realise shit is supposed to come out of your ass, not your mouth?” Dean growled. “Why don’t _you_ do us all a favour and throw yourself in front of a speeding bus?”

Colin bristled and tightened his grip on the knife but before he got a chance to retort, Darius’s best man stepped up to the microphone and began a speech. Dean smirked and slung an arm around the back of Castiel’s chair, gaze softening when Castiel leaned into him and began to scent at his neck.

He squeezed the angel gently and bared his throat a bit further. He enjoyed the times when Castiel slipped into his affectionate, slightly needy mannerisms; he just hoped that the fizzling embers of his heat were to blame and not Colin.

From the corner of his eye, Dean caught the older beta stiffen and he smirked smugly, wrapping his arm tighter around Castiel as he focused on whatever unfunny monologue the best man had prepared.

The toasts and speeches dragged on for far too long in Dean’s opinion. His stomach agreed loudly and when the food was finally served, Dean stared glumly at the three thin slivers of beef capaccio. Where was the rest of the bull?

He sighed and cleaned his plate, all the while watching Castiel prod curiously at the wafer-thin meat as he pulled various comical expressions. Dean smiled fondly to himself. He wondered if the food on Heaven was any different to Earth’s cuisine.

“No table manners. Disgusting pig.”

Dean felt a growl threatening to burst free from his chest and he sent an icy glare towards Colin, who ignored him in favour of focusing on his starter. He didn’t know if the beta was talking about him or Castiel but either way, Dean was itching for a brawl. He was willing to throw down for his omega and being at his ex’s wedding had no impact on that.

…Not that Castiel was his omega. Dean was merely… protective.

“You got something to say?” asked Dean, unable to help himself.

Colin glanced up and proceeded to give him a repulsed stare. “Yeah. I said you’re a pig. You got a problem with that?”

Once again, his wife smacked his arm but Colin ignored her. The rest of the table looked down uncomfortably and Dean felt almost sorry for them, except they weren’t exactly doing anything to condemn Colin’s treatment of Castiel.

A movement to his left caught his eye and he turned to find Castiel’s feathers beginning to stand on end, wings puffing out in indignation. Dean cocked his head curiously at the action.

“Great, now the gooseskin’s gone feral,” muttered Colin as Castiel’s wings began to rise either side of him in a gesture Dean had come to associate with Castiel preparing to floor someone.

“Don’t you come with an off-switch?” snapped Dean, one eye on Castiel as the angel’s fists clenched beneath the table.

“We’re not all mute like your _lover_ ,” spat Colin, as though the very thought of a human and an angel together was despicable and utterly unethical. “What’s wrong with him anyway? Doesn’t he have a tongue in his head? He got something wrong with his brain? Or is he just your subservient little bitch?”

Dean snarled lowly at the beta, startling the nervous couple beside him. He bared his teeth, unable to control his boiling emotions, and spoke slowly through a locked jaw.

“Call him one more slur and you’ll wake up in a hospital.”

Colin grinned with too many yellowing teeth as he leaned forwards challengingly. “Your gooseskin’s a filthy whore.”

Dean abruptly stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he planted his hands against the table and contemplated leaping over it and driving his fist into the beta’s ugly mouth. Just as the idea solidified in his mind, a hand gripped his arm and Dean looked down at Castiel, who met his gaze calmly.

Dean slowly lowered himself back into his seat, eyes fixed on Castiel’s sky-blue stare and the angel rewarded him with a thumb rubbing slow circles into the back of his neck. Dean’s eyes fluttered shut as he focused on Castiel’s warm touch and he forgot where he was when a wing curved around him possessively.

The tactile nature of their friendship wasn’t even strange to Dean anymore. They had spent so long touching and rubbing and scenting during their heat and rut that Dean couldn’t imagine being told that he wasn’t allowed into Castiel’s personal space again. The past two weeks had been a new experience for Dean – one he had no intentions of forgetting.

By the time the main meal arrived (roast lamb – now that was more like it), Dean had one hand buried in black feathers. Castiel seemed rather content with the impromptu grooming session and had managed to shift his chair closer to Dean, along with his entire place setting. Dean himself was feeling fairly pleased with the arrangement.

“There are children here,” snapped Colin. “Take your depraved fetishes outside and away from so many innocent kids. You should be locked away, the pair of you. Sick freaks.”

Dean felt his muscles coil in preparation to attack, but Castiel had a better idea.

He fluffed his feathers in a way that was definitely _not_ aggressive and suddenly wedged his head underneath Dean’s chin before practically… rubbing himself all over the alpha whilst maintaining eye contact with Colin. He draped Dean in feathers and made a point of smoothing his hands over every inch of Dean’s torso, arms and neck. His halo glowed the same striking violet that it had when Dean had groomed Castiel with his oil and the alpha remained as confused as he had been that last time. What did the colour mean?

Castiel shoved his nose into Dean’s neck and inhaled deeply, body flush with the alpha’s. It should have been obscene and Dean should have made a fuss before pushing Castiel away, but the pride swelling in his chest and the look of utter disgust on Colin’s face had Dean tugging Castiel closer in encouragement. If Castiel wanted to publicly claim him by rubbing his scent all over Dean’s body then who was Dean to stop him?

The fact that it was the hottest thing that Dean had ever seen was beside the point.

When Castiel was satisfied with his claim, Dean rumbled in approval and nuzzled Castiel’s shoulder. His angel had the most delectable scent and Dean wanted to roll in it. To have it rubbed over his body in a claim was the highest of honours.

His fingers brushed Castiel’s cheek and the angel turned his head willingly, allowing Dean to admire his defined nose, strong jawline, plush lips, light stubble and most importantly, those gorgeous eyes. Dean drank in the sight of his brave angel, counting each freckle and gaze lingering on fluttering lashes. He combed a hand through silky hair and rumbled softly in his chest when the angel sighed happily, eyes sliding shut.

Castiel was beautiful.

The thought didn’t panic him as it probably should have. Men had never interested him before but there was no doubt that Castiel was absolutely gorgeous – not only his physical features, but everything he had put himself through to protect his child; every time he had stayed strong when most others would crumble; every time he had defied those who wronged him, those who sought to hurt him… Castiel was the most stunning and fascinating omega that Dean had ever met and Dean craved more. He needed to know everything about Castiel; would take everything Castiel was willing to offer.

Castiel reached for him with half-lidded eyes and brushed his fingertips over Dean’s jaw, lips twitching into a smile when Dean leaned into him.

Castiel turned to Colin with a tilted chin and a look in his eyes that could only be described as defiant self-satisfaction. It was the first time that Dean had seen such open challenge on Castiel’s face without a trace of fear.

 _‘This alpha is mine and there’s nothing you can do about it,’_ the gaze claimed.

Dean blew out a long breath, eyes glued to the side of Castiel’s face as Colin grit his teeth. A bit of Castiel’s old personality was shining through – from the time before he had been subjected to unspeakable violations – and Dean couldn’t focus on anything except the confident quirk of his lips and the proud span of his wings. He pulled the omega closer in approval and a smirk swept over Castiel’s features; one that spoke volumes of his smug pleasure.

 _‘He knows that he’s mine,’_ stated that particular expression. _‘He wants to be mine.’_

Heat coursed through Dean’s veins and he shoved his nose into Castiel’s neck, submissive and strangely excited. He _really_ liked this side of his omega.

Finally, after a long stand-off, Colin dropped his gaze, cheeks flushed red and another quiet insult on his lips. However, his tone was softer, slightly breathless and he couldn’t meet Castiel’s gaze afterwards. He seemed to cower a fraction when Castiel didn’t immediately drop his stare and when the angel finally did, Dean was treated to a sly wink and curved lips.

Dean swallowed thickly and slid an arm around Castiel before boldly scenting his neck again. His skin was melting and he was pretty sure the table cloth was barely managing to hide his raging hard-on but he didn’t care because Castiel was the sexiest creature in the room and Dean was the one who got to touch him and wear his scent.

“So freakin’ hot,” growled Dean against Castiel’s neck.

The angel’s halo flashed a shy pink before he managed a gummy smile and Dean laughed at his sudden embarrassment. He gazed upon his angel adoringly before slowly returning to his meal, knee pressed against Castiel’s like a schoolboy with a crush.

It would later occur to him that his actions weren’t exactly consistent with those of an alpha interacting with ‘just a friend’ but for now he would blame them on his fading rut and Castiel’s exquisite scent.

Dessert was presented a little while later and Dean gave a soft cry of triumph at the slice of apple pie and dollop of ice cream perched on his plate. Attending the wedding had been worth it after all. He tucked into his prize with enthusiasm and missed Castiel’s affectionate smile.

Once people had finished eating and the lights began to dim, music flooding the room, Samandriel darted over to Castiel and Dean, narrowly dodging the groups of guests dancing awkwardly between tables.

Castiel’s expression broke out into one of relieved joy and he ruffled his son’s hair with a lop-sided grin.

“Hey, buddy. How’re you faring over there?” Dean asked and Samandriel tilted his head in confusion until Castiel touched his arm and mentally explained the definition of the word ‘faring’.

“Okay,” shrugged Samandriel. “One of the girls keeps poking at my wings and asking me questions. I don’t think she’s ever talked to an angel before.”

Dean lifted an eyebrow. “She bothering you or can you handle it?”

After another brief word from his father, Samandriel smiled at Dean. “I’m alright.”

The boy lingered a few minutes before zipping off to where the other children were dancing and giggling their way around the tables. Apparently not everyone at this party had the same hang-ups about aliens that Colin did.

“Drink?” asked Dean, turning to Castiel with a cocked eyebrow.

The angel nodded and they slipped out of the dining room with a handful of guests who were also clearly in need of a bar. They soon located one and once served, the other guests trudged their way back to the main party but Dean and Castiel lingered, glancing around the marble floors and colourful wall of liquor. The bartender returned to drying glasses as he pulled them from the washer and Dean propped himself up against the bar, momentarily entertaining himself with the swivel barstool.

A note slid across the bar top towards him.

 

_I apologise if my actions offended you earlier. That man was… infuriating. I felt the urge to prove a point._

Dean cracked a grin and he shook his head. “Nah, you didn’t offend me. Quite enjoyed you shutting him up, actually.” He tapped the rim of his beer idly. “Don’t think I’ve ever been claimed before. Not like that anyway.”

Castiel’s eyes widened and his lips parted as though ready to apologise but Dean held a hand up and chuckled.

“Cool it. You wouldn’t have dreamed of doing anything like that when we first met and it shows that you’re getting more comfortable with me.” He shrugged a shoulder awkwardly. “It’s kinda nice to feel wanted, actually.”

Castiel’s gaze softened and he stretched out a wing to curl it around Dean’s shoulders. He scribbled out another note.

 

_You are definitely wanted, Dean. However, I am glad that my claim was well-received. I realised how inappropriate it was once you began to inhale your pie. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry. I have no right to scent-claim you._

“ _Inhale_  my pie?” Dean snorted, swirling his beer around its glass. “Seriously, it’s fine, Cas.” His gaze sank to the floor. “Sorry for ah… y’know. What I said afterwards.” He coughed uncomfortably and frowned at a spot of dust marring the marble tiles. He should have felt guilty for calling the angel ‘hot’, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to.

Castiel’s wing tightened around him and heat surged to Dean’s cheeks. Another piece of paper was thrust in front of him.

 

_Don’t be._

He blinked in surprise and turned to Castiel only to find the angel thoroughly enraptured with the wall of bottles behind the bar. Dean’s lips began to quirk upwards.

“We should probably head back,” he sighed, sliding off his stool with his drink in hand.

They made their way to the dining room slowly, shoulders brushing as they wandered through long, empty corridors that echoed with the sounds of their footsteps.

“Dean.”

The alpha froze as he re-entered the room. He stared at the woman before him, clad in a beautiful white gown and hair perfectly spun into a pretty, tiara-topped bun with flowing ringlets.

“Lisa,” he managed, a lump in his throat and his heart pulsing at a quick march. His fingers grasped at thin air down by his sides and he knew his scent was beginning to ripen with distress, but he couldn’t help it. He stared into dark eyes that had once gazed at him in adoration; began to drown under that familiar beta scent he had once been so aroused by.

The room blurred as her gaze raked over him and he suddenly couldn’t breathe. He had missed her so much and now she was married to another alpha. Dean hadn’t been good enough for her, hadn’t been a good alpha, hadn’t treated her right and now she was gone. He would never get another chance with her. He was useless; a failure; doomed to live a loveless life because he was too pathetic to properly face the fact that both his parents were-

A warm hand slid into his, squeezing his fingers and grounding him firmly in the present. He flicked his gaze downwards and watched in fascination as Castiel stroked a soothing thumb over his knuckles.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Lisa was saying, brows furrowed as though she couldn’t quite work out why Dean had, in fact, decided to attend her special day.

“Neither did I,” admitted Dean, not entirely focused on Lisa as the heat of Castiel’s palm burned against his own. He raised his eyebrows at himself and shook his head before plastering on a smile. “But you asked me to come and today is supposed to be the best day of your life. How could I refuse?”

A small smile pulled at Lisa’s lips. “We both know you came for the cake,” she teased and Dean winked even as his heart ached.

Her gaze flicked briefly to Castiel, a strange expression crossing her features before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“How are you, Dean?” she asked softly, as though he was fragile and she didn’t want to break him.

“Fine,” he said offhandedly, as though he didn’t want to drop to his knees and beg her to take him back. “Good, actually.”

“…Good,” she said carefully, gaze tracking to Castiel once more. “…Is this a new boyfriend?”

Dean’s brows pinched together in confusion. Why would she think-? He glanced at their clasped hands. _Oh._

“No,” he said quickly, yanking his hand from Castiel’s grip. He missed the angel’s hurt expression. “No, I’m still straight,” he joked, but even he found the words a little flat.

Lisa’s nostrils twitched as she subtly scented the air. “…You sure?” she asked quietly, glancing between the pair and Dean closed his eyes as he remembered the earlier scent-claim.

“Yeah, we’re not… together or anything. This isn’t…” He gestured between himself and the angel weakly before slumping. “Cas is my angel. Well. Not _my_ angel. An angel I adopted. Sort of. The indentured servitude programme. I joined it and Cas and his son came out of it. They live with me now and it’s nice, y’know? Having company around the house.” He snapped his mouth shut before he could stammer out anything else.

Lisa stared at Dean for a moment before offering her hand to Castiel. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cas.”

He gripped her palm firmly and nodded with an almost forced smile. Lisa hesitated.

“He has vocal fold paralysis,” Dean blurted, then grimaced when Castiel frowned at him sharply. “I mean… he can’t speak. That wasn’t… I’m sorry, Cas. I didn’t mean to tell her like that.”

Castiel’s wings pulled flush with his back and he hunched slightly in a gesture that Dean had come to associate with unhappiness.

“Oh, you poor thing,” murmured Lisa, tone taking on the quality of someone who was speaking to a six-year-old who had just scraped their knee on the playground.

Castiel closed his eyes in resignation and Dean immediately felt ashamed of himself.

“He can understand you perfectly fine,” Dean said quickly. “We communicate in other ways. We’re learning to sign,” Dean offered, hoping to interrupt her fussing.

“Oh?” she asked in mild amusement.

Dean grimaced as Lisa watched the angel’s hand movements with budding curiosity.

“What did he say?” she asked, glancing to Dean.

“Uh… he said you look very pretty,” Dean lied, unwilling to admit that Castiel had just informed him that he was an asshole.

Lisa placed a hand over her heart and softened her gaze. “Thank you,” she said and Castiel smiled wide and false at her, nodding as though he actually cared about her appearance.

She returned her attention to Dean. “It’s nice to see you enjoying yourself again. And, if it means anything to you, I really am sorry about the way things ended between us.”

Dean scratched the back of his neck and lowered his gaze. After all this time, he still couldn’t face what had happened between them. He shouldn’t back down like this, shouldn’t be so willing to shove his hurt and betrayal deep inside him; he had found them sleeping together in his own bed! She had been cheating on him for months before he found out and she had no problem with leaving him for an alpha with more money even after he had caught them. No hesitation – she just left and never looked back, leaving Dean to pick up the pieces of his own shattered life. He should hate her. He should tell her what he really thought of her.

And yet.

Today was supposed to be the happiest day of her life and he didn’t want to ruin it for her. There was a little part of him that still loved her, after all.

“It’s in the past,” Dean heard himself saying. “You weren’t happy with me and now you’ve found someone who you can be happy with. You deserve as much.”

She beamed at him and squeezed his shoulder gratefully. “I’ll tell the servers to give you a larger slice of cake.”

It was a small consolation prize, but it was something at least. He managed a smile and she turned smartly on her slightly too-tight heel and glided over to a group of other guests. Dean stared at her retreating back numbly.

“Winchester.”

He startled and turned to face a displeased-looking Darius. He felt his stomach churn with nausea as it usually did when he gazed upon the face of the alpha his fiancé had cheated with, but plastered on a smile anyway. It was Darius’ wedding too.

“You have a good chat with my _wife_?” He enunciated the word ‘wife’, as though he had some power over Dean; as though he knew how much that word cut Dean to his very core.

“Yeah,” Dean said, weariness bubbling inside him because he knew this game. He knew that Darius was going to lord his marriage over him like a trophy as though he had beaten Dean in some sort of competition for Lisa’s affections. Alpha against alpha – both battling to put a ring on the pretty beta. Darius had won and Dean was apparently the lesser alpha for it.

He hated alpha knot-measuring contests.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Darius hummed, gaze wandering over to his lover’s figure. “I really got lucky with her, huh?”

Dean closed his eyes. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, heart tearing itself in two. He knew what Darius was doing. Could practically see him waving their marriage certificate in his face. Darius had won and Dean had lost. Finally, Darius returned his attention to Dean and gave him a once-over, his eyebrow raising in disapproval.

“Why did you come here, Dean?”

“I was invited,” sighed Dean, rubbing at his temples.

Darius snorted and crossed his arms, trying to puff his chest out as though he could intimidate Dean into cowering before him.

“You know no one wants you here. An ex at a wedding puts a bit of a damper on things.” His lips curled into a nasty sneer. “You didn’t think you could win her back, did you?”

Dean bristled at the implication. Did this idiot really think he was that desperate for attention? “I came for the cake,” he said, deadpan.

Darius scoffed at him again. “Sure,” he drawled. “So, you’re not still a little bit in love with her? You weren’t hoping that she might change her mind at the altar? Pick you instead?”

Dean swallowed and forced his brows into a scowl. There might have been a small part of him that had _hoped_ , but he had known it wasn’t going to happen.

“She chose you,” Dean grated out, wanting nothing more than for Darius to just leave him alone.

“She did,” agreed Darius loftily. “And she always will. You were never good enough for her, Dean. You’ll always be a dumb, knotless farmer-boy. Stick to someone more your league.” He cast his gaze to Castiel in distaste. “Like this gooseskin.”

Dean growled and lurched forwards, ready to drive his fist through Darius’ teeth, but he managed to restrain himself at the last moment and instead pushed himself into Darius’ personal space with a fiery gaze.

“Watch your mouth,” he hissed. “I know for a fact that Lisa doesn’t like xenophobes and racists, so she’ll have no problem divorcing your ass if she ever finds out about your twisted views on my friend here.”

For a moment, Darius matched his deep growl and Dean was half-convinced that a fight would break out in under a minute, but then the other alpha stepped backwards and with one withering glare at the pair of them, straightened out his suit.

“She cheated because you didn’t pay enough attention to her. You might not remember it that way, but you were so invested in your job and your endless Daddy Issues that she barely saw you.” He shot Dean a cold glance. “I was in your house nearly every day, she called me and texted me twice each day… and you didn’t even notice. It started out with her being my instructor at the gym, but I was the one who listened to her problems. I was the one who comforted her when she felt alone and isolated. I was the one who held her when she admitted that she thought you’d lost interest. I was there for the good times too – her promotions, her achievements, her college application… where were you?”

Dean felt himself deflate. Lisa had applied to college? When? How had he missed it?

He was crushed by a wave of guilt and shame. He truly wasn’t good enough for Lisa. It had been all his fault; he hadn’t been there for her when she needed him and he probably hadn’t been there when she wanted him. He was a failure, a screw-up. He hadn’t treated her right and he had no one to blame but himself for his own loneliness.

Suddenly, Castiel thrust a crinkled note into Darius’ hands and the other alpha stared at the angel in confusion for a moment, eyebrows climbing higher at the omega’s thick scowl. Darius cast his gaze to the note instead and in under three seconds, he crumpled the paper in his fist and narrowed his eyes at Castiel.

“She would have been loyal if he’d treated her right!” snapped the other alpha and for a moment, Castiel tensed, wings tucking close to his back as an intense white flashed through his halo. It quickly settled into silver and Castiel crossed his arms, unimpressed as he narrowed his eyes at Darius.

“Who are you, anyway?” Darius sneered, eying the angel like one would eye a dead cockroach. “You’re obviously not one of Lisa’s friends and I certainly don’t hang around with any of your _kind_. Why are you here?”

In typical alpha fashion, Darius puffed his chest out and flooded his scent with alpha authority. It was a pathetic dominance display and Dean would have rolled his eyes had the gesture not actually succeeded in making Castiel take a step back.

“Cool it,” hissed Dean, carefully edging towards Castiel as he glared at Darius.

“Screw you,” spat Darius before assessing Castiel’s slightly bowed head and wary gaze. He snorted. “Not so tough now, are you?”

When Castiel merely continued to stare at Darius cautiously, the alpha’s brows drew together. “What’s the matter? Haven’t got a tongue in your head?” He closed in on the angel, spreading his arms wide in a clear offensive pose. “What is your problem? Who writes their argument on a note anyway? You got brain damage or something?”

Castiel took another step back, eyes widening as Darius approached him. His halo flickered white.

“Come on, spit it out,” goaded Darius. “You wanna talk crap about my wife, you can say it to my face. Come on, gooseskin.”

Before Darius could invade Castiel’s personal space, Dean slid between them with a warning growl.

“Call him that one more time and we’re gonna have problems,” Dean said lowly. “Cas can’t speak, so you can back your ass up and leave him alone.”

Darius ground his teeth together. “He’s the one writing shit about Lisa.”

“Well, she did cheat on me!” Dean snapped because he was done with this conversation and he just wanted to go home and watch some TV with his angels.

“Then why are you at her wedding?” Darius roared and Castiel flinched. Fire raced through each and every one of Dean’s nerves.

“Because I couldn’t believe she would actually marry an ignorant knothead like you and had to see it with my own eyes!”

Darius paused before his scent roiled with fury. He reached for Dean’s lapel but Dean swatted him away with a growl.

“We’re leaving,” he grated out before Darius got a chance to demand the same thing.

As if sensing the mounting tension at the other end of the room, Samandriel slunk over, glancing at Darius nervously before latching onto his father’s hand.

“Enjoy the diapers,” huffed Dean as he practically dragged Castiel and Samandriel out of the room. “Don’t wear them all at once – you should probably save some for the baby.” He lowered his voice angrily. “Dumbass.”

“That’s it. Get out of here,” called Darius loudly. “And take your feathered freaks with you!”

“Darius!” Lisa snapped just before Dean fell out of hearing range. He smirked bitterly.

He folded himself into the car and rammed the key in the ignition with a thick scowl. Beside him, Castiel huddled in on himself and Samandriel shrank into the backseat.

“Screw him,” Dean huffed, wheels kicking up dust in their haste to escape the hotel grounds. “He’s an asshole.” He threw his gaze to Castiel and frowned worriedly when the angel winced. “Hey, you okay, man? What’s wrong?”

Castiel stared at him through the corner of his eye, back hunched and halo not quite settling on white or silver.

Dean sniffed at himself awkwardly before wrinkling his nose. “Ah. Sorry. None of that’s aimed at you. The… aroma is entirely for Darius, I promise.”

Castiel slowly uncurled himself and Samandriel relaxed into his seat. Silence fell for a few minutes before Samandriel quietly piped up, **_“Customers used to call us_** _ **gooseskin**_ ** _sometimes.”_**

Dean swore under his breath and his knuckles grew white as they clenched around the wheel. The switch to Enochian was a testament to Samandriel’s distress and Dean hated that he couldn’t comfort the little angel from the driver’s seat.

“Ignore that jerk. And ignore that moron Colin, too. They both need to have their asses kicked.”

Samandriel managed a small smile as Castiel rolled his eyes. Dean remembered that he was talking to a ten-year-old. “Butts,” he corrected. “They need to have their butts kicked.”

“I prefer asses,” grinned Samandriel, corners of his eyes crinkling when his father shot him a sharp glare.

Dean’s lips tugged upwards and he returned his gaze to the road. This was where he would rather be anyway; not in some lame, buffet-less wedding party, where he hated the groom and the other guests were all xenophobic mouth-breathers. He was happy when he was with Samandriel and Castiel and they appeared to be happy with him.

“How about we go to the movies tonight, hm?” Dean asked. “End this awful day on a high?”

Samandriel immediately brightened and nodded excitedly. He loved going to anything involving cinemas and theatres, although it was probably because Dean was a massive child and bought as much junk food as he could carry.

Castiel smiled at Dean warmly, a soft look in his eyes and when Dean caught it, he swallowed around the lump in his throat and managed a wide grin in return.

“Awesome,” he said quietly and Castiel slipped a wing around him as they drove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo more fluff ;)


	17. Making Friends

_A month passed and it became glaringly obvious that Hannah had a bump that couldn’t be attributed to an increase in appetite._

_“How far along are you?” Anna asked one afternoon and Hannah barely managed to reply, “Seven months,” before breaking down into hysterical sobs. No one asked her about the baby after that._

_Despite trying their best to support one another, Castiel’s relationship with Hannah became strained and Castiel began to blame himself for what had happened. If he hadn’t been so careless, if he had just remembered to wear a condom that one time… they wouldn’t be in this mess. It was his fault that Hannah’s body was facing all these changes whilst Castiel himself got a free pass._

_They hadn’t renewed their scent claim since that first time and after a month, it was as though they hadn’t mated at all. They no longer smelled of one another and Castiel could feel Hannah pulling away from him; withdrawing into herself with all the fear and grief. If he wasn’t careful, he would lose her._

_He had tried to take her out to high class restaurants and theatre nights, but people kept stopping her to ask when she was due and where her mate was. When they realised that Castiel was her mate, they turned their noses up in disgust and called them names like ‘freaks’ and ‘abominations’ and ‘whores’._

_Hannah stopped wanting to go out._

_Instead, Castiel tried to pamper her. He groomed her often and massaged her aching muscles when she sunk into the bath. He filled her home with comforting scents he knew she adored, like lavender and honeysuckle. He did her housework and scattered the bed with rose petals when they made love. He made her a nest containing the softest cushions and pillows and he filled it with her childhood toys and his childhood blankets. He made her bedroom fit for a pregnant Queen, hanging warmly glowing fairy lights like she had once done as a child and upon the ceiling, he projected stars and galaxies because he knew she like to gaze upon the night sky with him._

_His efforts were noted and Hannah began to smile a little more and when she came home, she immediately made for the bedroom and basked in her nest._

_However, Castiel could feel the slight change in their relationship; had noticed the way she subtly avoided his questions about scent claiming._

_He knew he had to give her time, but just how long would it take for her to love him as deeply as she once had?_

_Eight months into the pregnancy saw Castiel, Hannah, Balthazar, and Gadreel in the corner of a rarely used bar. It obviously wasn’t Balthazar’s usual standards because he kept squinting at various parts of the table with barely concealed distaste and pulling faces at the brandy that he was pretty certain was watered-down whisky. Unfortunately, it was the only place where Hannah was certain that no one would ask her about her baby bump._

_Gadreel had been oddly silent the entire evening and Castiel had noticed the longing looks he had been offering Hannah recently. If he hadn’t trusted them so wholeheartedly, he would have suspected that Gadreel had a thing for Hannah. As it was, he knew how far Gadreel’s loyalty for Balthazar extended, so obviously there was something else there._

_“Is everything alright with you, Gadreel?” Castiel asked after another one of those strange longing stares. “You’ve been… subdued lately.”_

_Gadreel startled and blinked at Castiel in confusion. Then a flash of guilt passed over his face and Balthazar glanced at him sharply._

_Hannah looked between the pair curiously. “Yeah, is everything okay between you two? You’ve been acting weird ever since…” She paused thoughtfully then suddenly scowled. “Ever since you learned that I was… that I was pregnant.” Her mouth drew downwards. “Does it bother you?”_

_Gadreel looked alarmed and even Balthazar shook his head hurriedly. “Ah, no, darling. You being pregnant doesn’t bother us. We just…” He floundered for a moment, obviously trying to think of a lie as to why they had been acting so off recently._

_“We’ve wanted a baby for a while now,” sighed Gadreel quietly. “Obviously there’s no viable way for us to do that biologically and when we sought adoption, once they learned of Balthazar’s transition, they told us it would be… wrong to hand a baby over to a pair of mated_ alphas _.”_

_Balthazar winced before glancing at Gadreel apologetically. “I’m sorry, love. I really am. If there was any way I could carry a baby for you, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”_

_Gadreel cupped his hands around his drink morosely, wings drooping. “I know,” he murmured._

_Balthazar flinched, wings tucking close to his back. “I’m sorry,” he said again, placing a hand on his lover’s arm. “This is all my fault. If… if I’d just been born a beta, or an omega… or even female, I could’ve… I could’ve made you happy. We could’ve had that family you always wanted. If I’d just… If I hadn’t been this screwed-up mess-”_

_Gadreel curled a wing around him and pulled the beta into his side._

_“You’re perfect,” Gadreel rumbled. “You’re perfect the way you are and I love every inch of you. Don’t ever think that you don’t make me happy or that us not being able to adopt or conceive is your fault. The world has ridiculous ideas of who people are allowed to love and who people are allowed to be. Don’t you ever believe that their prejudices are your fault.”_

_Balthazar ducked his head in an uncharacteristic display of shyness and Gadreel smiled and kissed his lips heatedly in a claim. Balthazar easily submitted and Gadreel’s wings swung around him possessively, a hand coming to rest on the back of the beta’s neck. When they broke apart for air, Balthazar’s chest heaved a little, his lips swollen and pupils dilated as he gazed at his mate adoringly._

_“It isn’t you being pregnant that’s the problem,” said Gadreel, voice deep and oddly commanding as he gazed calmly at Hannah. Beside him, Balthazar shuddered and edged closer, peppering kisses over his jaw and fluffing his wings up in an attempt to entice Gadreel’s attention back to him. Gadreel eyed him in mild amusement._

_“It’s the fact that we can’t conceive and so desperately want a child, yet you two perceive your situation as some sort of nightmare and wish the child didn’t exist. It seems… unfair,” said Gadreel firmly and now that Castiel could take a closer look, he realised that the thing shining in Gadreel’s eyes wasn’t longing at all._

_It was envy._

_Hannah bristled at the blunt words but Castiel glanced at Hannah’s stomach curiously. What was happening inside her truly was a marvellous thing; she was carrying another life inside her. Unfortunately, Castiel just couldn’t see himself as a father. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to give up his life for a child and neither was Hannah. He wasn’t ready to be frowned at for being in a relationship with another omega and he wasn’t ready to be mocked for being a working omega with a child. He wasn’t ready to raise a child in the mess that was the Silver City and he certainly didn’t want to bring a child into a world at war with demons. He hadn’t planned for a child._

_…But Gadreel and Balthazar had._

_He realised that Hannah was yelling at Gadreel, her wings flaring angrily as he scowled back at her through narrowed eyes._

_“-like every other judgemental alpha!” Hannah continued, Castiel’s eyes widening as he tuned back into the conversation. “Omegas aren’t here to pump out children! Just because you can’t have children, it doesn’t mean that I have to want this… this mistake inside me! It’s my body! It’s mine and Castiel’s lives at stake! It’s different for you – you’re the alpha; you get to keep living your life whilst someone else takes care of the fledging you pumped into them! No one cares what you do because you’re the boss! You’re the one with the knot! You keep your friends and your job and your hobbies whilst the omega takes care of the crap you leave them with! You won’t want that fledgling when it keeps you awake at night with its crying, or when it needs feeding every couple of hours, or… or when it shits itself! You won’t want it then, no, you’ll just dump it on your mate and expect them to deal with it, like every other useless alpha!”_

_Balthazar growled at Hannah as Gadreel crossed his arms._

_“Are you quite finished?” he snapped, his usually unbreakable patience beginning to weaken. “Or should I just leave and let you wallow in your own self-pity like you have been for the past couple of months?”_

_“I’m ‘wallowing’ because I have this_ thing _inside me and I want nothing more than to get rid of it, yet I appear to have this stupid alpha telling me what I should and shouldn’t want – which is absolutely no surprise – and he thinks that because his mate is messed up and can’t give him the child he desires, that I should love the parasite growing inside me!” Hannah shouted._

_“Enough!” Gadreel snarled, wings snapping out either side of him as he glared at Hannah furiously. He leaned forwards with clenched fists. “If you ever speak about Balthazar like that again, I’ll give you something to cry about.”_

_“Gadreel,” Castiel hissed, finally coming to his senses enough to stand up for his lover._

_“That’s it, show your true colours,_ alpha _,” Hannah sneered. “You’re exactly like all the other knot-heads we have to deal with. I knew you weren’t really on our side. You’ll always think yourself above omegas; you’ll always win your arguments with your fists.”_

_Gadreel growled deep in his chest before standing. “I don’t have to listen to this,” he muttered, but Balthazar grabbed his arm and held him in place as he glared at Hannah._

_“If you put half the passion you have for hating alphas into your life with Castiel, you might have a half-decent relationship.” Balthazar plastered on a smile before rising to his feet and taking his mate’s arm pointedly. “Come on, love. Let your ‘messed up mate’ show you how much he loves swallowing down your knot.”_

_Hannah wrinkled her nose in repulsion and Gadreel claimed his lover’s mouth roughly. They pulled apart with swollen, spit-slicked lips and Hannah finally averted her gaze._

_“Take a long look at what you’ll never have, darling,” said Balthazar coldly. “Because we all know that Cassie won’t stick around, just like the others didn’t.”_

_“Balthazar!” Castiel snarled. “Don’t you dare speak to her like that.”_

_“Word of advice,” snorted Balthazar. “Leave her now, before you lose the chance. You deserve so much better.”_

_Hannah’s face crumpled in anger and she glared at Gadreel and Balthazar until suddenly, their faces seemed to clear of their previous fury to make way for wide eyes, pale faces and… were they… white halos?_

_Hannah leapt to her feet and fanned her wings wide and intimidating. “Get out!” she yelled, flinging an arm towards the bar door._

_Both Balthazar and Gadreel cowered, blind fear and panic flooding their gazes as they scrambled towards the door, wings low and submissive._

_Castiel stared after them as Hannah slumped into her chair, head dropping into her hands._

_“Did you…” began Castiel, licking his dry lips. “Did you make them do that? Did you… make them_ fear _you?”_

_Hannah sent him a tired look before nodding. “I couldn’t… They were…” She shook her head and began to cry._

_Castiel stared at the door warily before settling beside his lover and pulling her into his arms._

_“They had no right to speak to you like that,” he agreed slowly, rubbing the space between her wings. “They were out of line.”_

_“It’s because they’re alphas. They don’t understand,” wept Hannah._

_Castiel placed his chin on her head. “Alpha and beta,” he corrected quietly. “And you’re right, they don’t.”_

_Hannah snorted. “They’re alphas,” she said again before burying her face against his chest._

_Castiel paused and glanced down at her warily. He said nothing as he continued to hold her._

*             *             *

 

The first day of school had been an exciting new experience for Samandriel. He had been a little nervous about leaving the protective gaze of his father but his teachers were kind and welcoming and none of them made one derogatory remark about him not being human. They didn’t even comment about him being an omega!

His lessons were fascinating and whilst the material was taught in a different manner to how Dean and his father had taught him, Samandriel enjoyed the change in pace. School was far more regimented with its timetables and lesson plans, sure, but honestly… Samandriel rather liked not having time to think about his past trauma.

Plus, the human children were so much fun to play with! They didn’t shun him or bully him for being an omega like the kids in the Silver City had. He might have only been young back then, but he knew to bow his head in submission when an alpha child spat in his face or kicked his shins.

Human children weren’t like that though. Human children included him in their games and asked him loads of questions about his wings and his special ability to talk to animals. They shared their lunches with him and sat next to him in class and they giggled when his halo changed colours. After a mere three weeks, Samandriel could say that he adored school.

Unfortunately, there was always that one irritating problem there to dampen his joy.

There weren’t many angels or demons in Samandriel’s new school and the other angels had been evenly distributed throughout the classes and grades, meaning that Samandriel was the only one of his kind in his class. However, he had the displeasure of being placed with two demons – one alpha, the other beta.

The alpha demon had taken one look at him, growled at him in warning, flared his wings, and subsequently been yelled at by the teacher. After that, he had ignored Samandriel as much as he could, only growling at him when the teacher’s back was turned. Samandriel could cope with that; the demon hadn’t physically assaulted him so he could pretend that it wasn’t happening.

The beta, however, was more concerning. He kept _staring_ at Samandriel. He didn’t flare his wings or growl or flash his eyes a soulless black in an attempt to intimidate the young angel, he just… stared. During class, at break times, in the canteen, when he jumped in the Impala to go home – the beta would stare at him whenever he got the opportunity.

He had tried to approach Samandriel a few times during breaks and lunch times but the young angel’s nerves got the better of him and he would duck away, fearful of confrontation. He knew what demons liked to do to angels; had seen how they treated his father. Samandriel wasn’t inclined to let this beta corner him, no matter how young he was.

For three weeks, Samandriel put up with the staring and failed attempts at approaching him until one morning, the beta boldly slid into the seat beside him in class.

Samandriel stiffened and looked around wildly for a new seat, but the classroom filled up quickly and by the time he stood, they would all be taken. His pulse picked up speed, halo fading into silver.

The demon didn’t speak but he did drag his gaze over Samandriel’s body and up to his face before the teacher began the lesson and Samandriel found that he couldn’t concentrate on a single word because the beta wouldn’t look away.

Finally, they were made to complete the sums that the teacher had set for them and they were allowed to chat in order to help each other through the task.

The beta continued to stare at him from the corner of his eye, clearly having no intention of starting the task.

“What?” Samandriel hissed, flashing his eyes a little at the beta because he knew flaring his wings would draw the attention of Ms. Taylor.

The beta startled and Samandriel took a little satisfaction in that before the fear returned as the demon shifted to face him fully. He glanced Samandriel up and down slowly before his gaze landed on his face once more and Samandriel felt sick. What was this demon thinking? What would it do to him now he had confronted it?

Suddenly, a grin broke out over the demon’s face and he held out a hand.

“Hi! I’m Jack.”

Samandriel blinked and stared at the outstretched hand before raising his gaze to Jack’s face. What was this demon’s game?

The corners of Jack’s eyes crinkled as his smile widened. “You’re Samandriel, right?”

Samandriel stared for a little longer, eying up the tiny C-shaped nubs rising from Jack’s skull. They looked like the beginnings of antlers – thin and growing directly upwards from a mop of shaggy brown hair. Like his leathery wings, his horns were a dark, mottled oak colour, similar to the colouration of a wild turkey but less stripy.

“You can understand English, right?” Jack asked, smile beginning to fade at Samandriel’s non-response. **_“Would you prefer me to speak Enochian?”_**

Finally, Samandriel shook his head and glanced into amber eyes and huh… they didn’t look that scary. In fact, they were quite pretty – like his patterned wings.

“I can speak some English,” Samandriel said warily, halo remaining silver. He still didn’t understand what the demon wanted from him.

Jack beamed at him and dropped his hand. “Awesome. So, is it true you can talk to animals? Because that is so cool!”

Samandriel swallowed and glanced down at his work. The demon didn’t smell threatening but he had to want something, otherwise he wouldn’t have been staring at Samandriel for the past three weeks, right? He cursed himself for looking weak in front of the beta but he couldn’t help it. He knew what demons were like; knew what they thought of angels. What did Jack want?

“Hey… are you okay?” Jack asked softly and when Samandriel glanced up, he noticed Jack’s gaze trailing to his silver halo. He winced as he realised the demon had recognised his nervousness.

“I’m fine,” Samandriel bit out. He began scribbling answers down to the questions Ms. Taylor had set, pointedly ignoring Jack.

Jack stared at the side of his head in dismay before twirling his pencil around his fingers.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a minute or so. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Samandriel tensed. He couldn’t let the demon think that he was afraid of him. Demons who thought they had power over an angel liked to hurt them. He remembered all the times a demon had pinned his father against a bed or a wall and had their way with him. He remembered how they liked it when his dad’s halo turned silver or white. He remembered how they set out to make him cry or beg for them to stop. He remembered their expressions of delight when they overpowered him; how they enjoyed his fear and suffering as they rammed into him over and over...

Samandriel also remembered those same demons hitting him when he pleaded for them to stop hurting his father. He could still feel the bruises from when they threw him around; winced at the sting of their nails slicing through his flesh when they wanted to hear him sob. He could feel the nauseating violation of them thrusting their fingers into his oil glands; their mocking laughs when he howled in agony.

He couldn’t let Jack think he was frightened of him.

“I’m not scared of you,” Samandriel snapped, wings flaring and eyes flashing at the startled demon. “Leave me alone, asshole!”

_“Samandriel!”_

The omega flinched at the sharp voice of Ms. Taylor. He glanced up at her disapproving features and tucked his wings close to his back as his halo swung to white. He couldn’t keep control of his emotions and if he wasn’t careful, Jack and that alpha demon would team up and hurt him and they would laugh when he tried to get away, and then they would push him against a wall and shove their fingers into his glands, and then they would probably set their parents on his dad and his dad would have no chance against four demons who wanted to pin him to a bed and-

“Samandriel,” Ms. Taylor said urgently, in a tone that probably meant it wasn’t the first time she had called his name. She was crouched in front of him, hands on his shoulders and eyes wide with worry. His face felt cool and damp and his wings were shaking violently, feathers slicked with sweat.

Jack was still staring at him.

His horns glinted under the classroom lights and his bat-like wings looked more ominous than ever. Samandriel’s gaze immediately tracked to the other demon in the room and found him smirking, eyes an inky black as he took pleasure in watching Samandriel fall apart.

He had been right after all. Jack and the alpha were going to corner him later and everything that happened at Ketch’s would happen again. They were going to hurt him and then their parents would hurt his dad.

Tears rolled down his cheeks and his head ached as he vaguely heard Ms. Taylor calling his name again, panic creeping into her tone. He wanted his dad. He wanted Dean. He just wanted to go home and never see another demon again.

Jack continued to stare at his tear-stained face.

_Why wouldn’t he stop staring?!_

In a spilt-second decision, Samandriel snarled and lunged at the cruel demon. Jack yelped and they hit the floor hard, both of them smacking their heads against the same flimsy chair as they fell. Samandriel drew his fist back and punched the soulless creature square in the mouth and the demon cried out and threw his hands over his face, so Samandriel jerked a knee into his stomach instead, a wisp of satisfaction curling in his gut when the evil thing started coughing.

Just as he was lining up a kick to the crotch, he was yanked away from the abomination by Ms. Taylor and he snarled in frustration, flaring his wings when the demon dared to sit up.

It was only when he was dragged into the corridor did he notice the blood on his knuckles.

Ms. Taylor snapped at him to remain put in the hallway before she rushed back into the classroom and as the adrenaline evaporated from his veins and his panting began to die down, Samandriel finally heard Jack’s pained crying.

For a moment, guilt seized his heart but he quickly shook it away. If he hadn’t punched Jack, the demon would have done a lot worse to him when the teacher wasn’t looking. Maybe his lesson would teach Jack and that other demon to keep away from him.

              

*             *             *

 

He hadn’t expected his dad and Dean to be called to the school.

His dad had been quiet about the fight and Samandriel had a feeling it was because he silently agreed with Samandriel defending himself against a dirty demon.

Dean however, wasn’t quite as silent.

“You can’t start a fight with someone just because they’re staring at you!” Dean snapped, his voice bouncing off the walls of the principal’s office. She had stepped out of the room to allow the trio some privacy, but Samandriel knew she was lingering around the corner, listening to every word.

“He wouldn’t stop!” Samandriel yelled back, because why didn’t Dean understand? Demons were evil and vicious, no matter their age.

“So that means it’s okay to bust his lip open?” Dean scowled. When Samandriel looked away with downturned lips and crossed arms, Dean sighed and turned to Castiel.

“Aren’t you going to say something about this?”

Castiel hesitated and Dean shook his head angrily. “Guys! Come on! You can’t attack someone just because they’re a demon! That makes you no better than the xenophobic jerks at Lisa’s wedding.”

Both angels stiffened and glared at Dean. “It’s different,” insisted Samandriel. “Demons are evil.”

Dean frowned down at him and Samandriel matched his gaze. Dean obviously didn’t understand. How could he? He was an alpha human – he had never faced the discrimination and abuse that Samandriel and his father had. He never would.

“You once told me that all alphas want to hurt you and your dad,” said Dean firmly. “Do you still believe that? Do you believe that I want to hurt you? Do you think that I want to make you and your dad suffer?”

Samandriel frowned in confusion and shook his head. Why would he think Dean wanted to hurt him? Dean had been nothing but kind and Samandriel enjoyed living with him. He loved their time together.

“So, what makes you think that poor Jack is evil?” Dean continued. “Because you’ve had a few bad run-ins with demons in the past, does that mean every demon you meet is cruel? What gives you the right to label him like that? The staff at the hostel thought your dad was aggressive and animalistic, but that wasn’t true was it? They labelled him before getting to know him properly. They didn’t give him a chance to speak.” Dean crossed his arms. “Just like you’ve done with Jack.”

Samandriel’s wings drooped a little as he scrambled for an excuse. “But… but all demons hate angels. He would have hurt me if I hadn’t hurt him first.” The words sounded weak to his own ears. “And he’s a beta! Alphas and betas always try to take advantage of omegas. They always think they’re better than us.”

Dean shook his head disappointedly and Samandriel grimaced at his own pathetic argument. He had managed to insult Dean with that excuse.

“I don’t think I’m better than any omega,” said Dean. “And I’d be willing to bet that Jack doesn’t either. From what your teacher has told me, it sounds like he was just trying to say hi and you hit him.”

Samandriel shrunk in on himself at the alpha’s tone. Dean sounded so dismayed and Samandriel hated the idea that he had let his favourite human down.

“He has just as much right to be on Earth as you do,” Dean said quietly. “I know you’ve been through a lot but you have no idea what he’s been through. For all you know, he could have been rescued from the same sort of place that you came from. He could be just as afraid of angels as you are of demons – even more so now that you’ve attacked him. Now tell me, is that fair?”

Samandriel’s halo blazed red with shame as he hung his head.  Even his father looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Samandriel whispered because he didn’t like the feeling of disappointing Dean. He preferred it when the alpha was proud of him and accidentally telling people that he was his son.

“It’s not me you should be apologising to,” frowned Dean.

Samandriel averted his gaze. He didn’t want to go anywhere near Jack but he didn’t want Dean to be upset with him either. He would have to confront the demon when there was a large crowd – he didn’t want the beta pouncing on him when no one was watching.

A few moments of awkward silence later and Principal Bevell returned, dismissing Samandriel back to class whilst she advised Dean and Castiel on how to proceed with Samandriel’s behaviour. Samandriel shuffled down the corridors with his wings flush to his back and his skin burning with humiliation. He had thought that attacking the demon had been the right thing to do – his dad hadn’t seemed too bothered about it. Yet Dean was clearly upset with his decision.

Had he really judged Jack too quickly? Could you even judge a demon unfairly?

Movement from a converging corridor caught his attention and he glanced up to find Jack trudging his way back from the nurse’s office, face bruised and lip scabbed over as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. He glanced over at Samandriel and suddenly froze, eyes sliding to black in what appeared to be fear. He took a step backwards, wings falling low behind his back and Samandriel blinked in surprise. He had never seen a beta frightened of an omega before.

He began to puff his feathers out in a show of dominance but quickly caught himself when the demon ducked his head in submission. He really was no better than the alphas and betas who had abused him and his father if he continued to intimidate Jack. Maybe Dean hadn’t been so wrong after all…

“I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t Samandriel who had said the words, but Jack, head bowed and wings trembling slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said again, fear evident in his tone as he stepped backwards once more. “I didn’t mean to get you into trouble.”

Samandriel scowled in confusion. “What are you apologising for? I hit you.”

Jack winced and seemed to huddle in on himself. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with Principal Bevell. Promise.”

Samandriel took a step towards the demon and Jack tensed and backed up once more. “Please don’t hit me again.”

Samandriel paused and cocked his head in confusion. Was the demon really that scared of him?

“…I’m not gonna hit you again.”

Jack dared a glance upwards and when he realised that Samandriel was no longer threatening him, he managed to straighten a little. They stared at each other for at least a minute.

“…Did you get those scars from fighting demons?” Jack asked tentatively, gesturing to where Samandriel’s sleeves had ridden up slightly to bare the reminders of his past with Ketch.

He hastily tugged his sleeves down. “Not exactly,” he frowned.

Jack looked away again, rubbing the toe of his shoe against the sticky floor. Samandriel watched him curiously before sagging in defeat.

“I’m sorry for hitting you,” Samandriel mumbled.

Jack’s gaze snapped up to him and his wings perked up as his inky eyes cleared to reveal warm amber pools.

“You are?”

Samandriel scrunched his nose and nodded, gaze not quite meeting Jack’s. “…How is your lip?”

Jack brightened and he waved a hand in dismissal. “A bit sore but it’ll get better.” He offered the angel a lop-sided grin. “Does this mean we’re cool?”

Samandriel frowned and shrugged warily. This demon was strange.

Jack ventured a step or two forwards. “I know angels and demons are supposed to hate each other, but maybe… maybe we could be different? You seem really nice with all the humans and I like humans too, so maybe… maybe we could be… I don’t know… friends?”

The demon looked genuinely hopeful and Samandriel cocked an eyebrow in surprise. He had never met a demon like Jack before. He didn’t sound evil and he didn’t look like a torturer or like someone who wanted omegas to suffer. He didn’t look like he wanted to pluck all of Samandriel’s feathers out and beat him to a bloody pulp.

Actually, he looked like a bit of a dork with his shaggy hair and woolly fleece.

“I don’t know,” Samandriel mused aloud. “Why would you want to be friends with me?”

Jack stuffed his hands into his pockets shyly. “Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with you? Everyone here loves you. You’re smart and cool and all the human kids have been following you around since you got here. You’re not afraid to answer their questions about angels and Heaven and stuff and you don’t think yourself above them like some angels do. You’re so good at art and you’re really mysterious with your past and everything, and everyone thinks you’re awesome.”

Jack’s wings gave a nervous flutter. “You’re really popular and I just… I wanted to say hi but I didn’t know how to do it because I’m the awkward nerdy kid who sits at the back of the class because no one really likes them. I don’t have that many friends and most people avoid me because they think that me being a demon means I’m friends with Ryuk.” He screwed his face up in distaste. “That alpha’s mean to everyone. I’ve seen the way he looks at you sometimes. I know you ignore it and you probably haven’t even noticed because you’re so popular but he doesn’t like angels and he thinks that omegas and betas are beneath him. Apparently, his parents are like that too. He’s such a jerk.”

Jack shook his head and glanced downwards again. “So, yeah. I didn’t know how to say hi because why would you even look at me when you have so many other friends? But I really wanted to talk to you because you seemed nicer than most of the other angels I meet and so I just ended up staring at you every day until I finally convinced myself to sit next to you today.” He laughed nervously. “Terrible idea, right?”

Samandriel stared at Jack wide-eyed, trying desperately to translate the spew of information into a language that he could understand. Jack seemed to mistake his blank stare for rejection or maybe disinterest, for he slumped in disappointment and tucked his wings close to his back.

“I’ll uh… I’ll just go then,” he mumbled, trying to shuffle past Samandriel.

Samandriel frowned at the demon’s sad scent and as he channelled most of his concentration into translating Jack’s explanation, he grabbed the beta’s wrist to prevent his escape.

He was assaulted by a slew of unhappiness and loneliness, but also a genuine curiosity about himself and hope for the prospect of a new friend. He could feel Jack’s distaste for the alpha demon in their class and he could hear the mean words some of the other children said about Jack; how they believed that he saw everyone the same way as Ryuk did – beneath him. They were all wrong though. Jack was just shy and didn’t know how to introduce himself to new people, just as he hadn’t known how to talk to Samandriel. People had the wrong idea about him.

Samandriel stepped back, a little overwhelmed by the onslaught of information. He tended to find that children couldn’t control their thoughts as well as adults and their minds often worked much faster, spitting out information in random bouts and spurts meaning that Samandriel had to concentrate to sort it into some semblance of sense.

Jack stared at him with large, round eyes, clearly nervous and uncertain as to what had just happened.

“I’m sorry,” Samandriel said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to read your thoughts. It just… happens sometimes.” He frowned down at his own hand. “Your explanation was fast and confusing. I didn’t want you to run away before I had translated it, but I think… I think I’ve got it now.”

Jack blinked as the epiphany struck and he suddenly beamed. “Wait. Is that your power? Did you just use your power to… to read my mind or something?” He paused then frowned. **_“Wait, would it be easier if I spoke in Enochian?”_**

Samandriel’s lips tugged upwards into a faint smile. **_“You talk fast, so… yeah. Kind of. I’m not quite fluent in English.”_**

Jack perked up. **_“That’s okay. Hey! Maybe I could help teach you? English is my first language.”_** His wings wiggled excitedly. **_“And you could help me with Enochian!”_**

Samandriel found Jack’s enthusiasm infectious. His wings began to flutter in response and his smile widened.

**_“…That sounds nice.”_ **

Jack looked incredibly hopeful. **_“You really think so? Hey, does this mean we could maybe sit together tomorrow? I get it if you don’t want to with me being a demon and all. And I know I’m the weird kid who sits at the back with no friends and I’d hate to ruin your image and stuff but-”_** He cut himself off and frowned. **_“Maybe we shouldn’t sit together. It’s not like you’d want to be seen sitting with me anyway.”_**

Samandriel frowned, a stab of sympathy in his heart. **_“Don’t you think I should be able to decide who I want to sit with?”_** He blinked in surprise at his own words. Why did he want to suddenly befriend this demon.

Jack’s face lit up and Samandriel found a grin spreading across his own face.

 ** _“I can sit with you?”_** Jack breathed, almost in awe.

Samandriel shrugged. **_“Sure,”_** he said as though it wasn’t a big deal that he was putting his trust in Jack. He had never sat next to a demon willingly before.

A bright grin spread across Jack’s face and his wings wiggled with excitement. Samandriel watched them in amusement before stuffing his hands into his pockets as casually as he could. **_“I mean… you could always sit with me now. If you want to, obviously. Ms. Taylor would probably be pleased.”_**

Jack nodded enthusiastically and Samandriel was struck by a strange sense of delight. He quite enjoyed Jack’s enthusiasm.

He startled as a hand grasped his own and his first instinct was to recoil, but Jack held fast and offered him a friendly look.

 ** _“Come on,”_** he said. **_“We’re missing art and you’re really good at that.”_**

Samandriel blinked at the compliment. He wasn’t accustomed to compliments from betas, let alone demons. He allowed himself to be dragged down the corridor and as he watched Jack’s wings flick and bob with happiness, he began to smile.

 

*             *             *

 

The sun beat down on the lush pasture and warmed the earth pleasantly. The once-emaciated cows blinked slowly with contentment, lazing on the ground as they wrapped their tongues around long tufts of grass. Their parasite-infested bodies had cleared under the treatment of Dean, Castiel and Samandriel and their coats were left silky and shining under the sun’s rays.

Persephone bleated playfully and pranced around the field on her three legs. She had grown a great deal since arriving at the farm and her bond with Samandriel had only strengthened with time.

Hera, of course, would always favour Dean but despite being an old mare, she seemed to enjoy the extra faces around her home. Dean had even caught her sleeping with young Persephone a few times when the cheeky lamb had found an escape route from her stable.

Dean had a special place in his heart for the weekends where he, Castiel, and Samandriel would spend time taking care of the animals. It reminded him of years gone by when he and Sam had helped their mother wrangle the cattle in for milking, or herd the sheep in for shearing. They had been happy times and Dean was grateful that he could now share those experiences with two people who needed some joy in their lives.

Zeus watched curiously as Dean lifted Samandriel onto Hera’s back. The old bull had taken quite the shine to Samandriel and if anything, Dean would say that he was quite protective of the little angel. He appeared to catch Hera’s eye for a moment as Samandriel settled into the worn saddle and she huffed softly, almost in promise. A moment later, Zeus relaxed and returned to chewing, but Dean swore the bull was still keeping an eye on them.

“Sit up straight,” said Dean. “Relax on the reins. Shift your weight slightly forwards.”

Samandriel did as asked and Hera plodded forwards obediently. He flung his wings out, startled and tightened his grip on the reins and Hera slowed to a stop, awaiting further instruction.

Dean chuckled and ran a gentle hand over one of Samandriel’s wings. “Think where you want her to go and I promise she’ll do it. You don’t have to be afraid of her. She’s a good girl; she won’t hurt you.”

Samandriel licked his lips and glanced over to his father. Castiel hovered a few metres away, watching on anxiously. When he noticed his son was looking at him, he offered the boy a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m right here,” murmured Dean. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Finally, Samandriel exhaled and loosened his grip on the reins. Hera trudged onwards, accepting Dean’s titbits whenever they were offered.

“Well done,” Dean praised and Samandriel managed a weak grin.

They wandered the field for a little while, Persephone joining them at one point before zipping off to pester the lounging cows. As the afternoon progressed, Samandriel relaxed further and Dean brought Hera to a light trot, features softening when the young angel began to giggle. When she came to a rest, nibbling on the grass and allowing Samandriel to dismount, Dean chuckled at the sight of Castiel surrounded by cattle. They nuzzled his wings and licked his arms curiously and Zeus had found the perfect head rest on Castiel’s lap.

Castiel appeared unconcerned by the beasts’ presence, merely smiling at Dean and Samandriel as they approached.

Dean couldn’t help but gaze at both angels’ halos. They shone a brilliant gold, their wings swaying lazily in testament to their contentment. It was a far cry from how they had first arrived; thin and pale and terrified of the world around them.

Dean squeezed between the cattle and sprawled over the ground beside Castiel, hands behind his head as he basked in the sunlight. He quirked a grin when Samandriel lay his head on his stomach.

“You enjoying yourself all the way over here?” Dean hummed, cracking an eye open to glance at Castiel.

The omega twisted his head to meet his gaze and Dean was struck by how deeply blue his eyes were in pure sunlight. They reminded Dean of calm seas; of clear skies and peaceful waters.

He faced the sun again, closing his eyes against its harsh glare. “Zeus is a bit of a drooler, ain’t he?”

Castiel snorted and lay back on the grass, his head falling in line with Dean’s.

Today was a good day.

Dean didn’t fight the gentle pull of slumber as it tempted him to a nap under the warm sun. He was experiencing that sort of bone-deep contentment that only came when surrounded by affectionate farm animals, lying beside one of your favourite angels, and being used as a pillow by the other.

He vaguely felt Samandriel snuggle into him and he curled an arm around the boy and rubbed the space between his wings. Samandriel soon stilled, humming quietly against his body.

When Dean next opened his eyes, he was met with the sight of Castiel fanning his impressive wings over the grass, chin resting on his arms as he lay on his front merely watching Dean.

It should have been awkward or maybe a little creepy, but Dean smiled sleepily as Castiel’s gaze lingered on his face.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled and a grin broke out over Castiel’s features, eyes crinkling with fondness.

He briefly wondered why Castiel had been staring at him and for how long, but he didn’t dwell on those thoughts for too long. After all, he wasn’t exactly complaining about the angel admiring him. Was that weird?

Dean shrugged and was about to attempt to extract himself from under Samandriel, when suddenly a van tore up the road and two cages of screeching hens were tossed out of the back and straight into Dean’s fence.

The alpha bolted upright in alarm and the van sped off without stopping. By the time Dean had clambered to his feet, Samandriel and Castiel had taken flight. They landed beside the cages with worried expressions as they peered into them, and Dean vaulted over the fence to join them.

The hens were wide-eyed and screaming frantically and Dean scrubbed a weary hand over his face as he gazed into the direction the van had disappeared.

“We’ll be able to start a petting zoo by the end of the year,” grumbled Dean before heaving one battered cage into his arms. The birds looked worse for wear; their feathers falling out in patches and parasites clinging to their bruised skin. A few birds looked tacky with blood and Dean shook his head angrily at the van owner’s lack of care. It was a wonder all the birds were still alive, crushed into the cage as they were and thrown into the fence at such speeds.

“Come on, lets take them into the barn and get them cleaned up,” sighed Dean. He wasn’t about to leave the hens in this state and he knew that once Samandriel and Castiel bonded with them, there was no chance of him rehoming them. Better start searching for chicken feed…

By the time they had cleaned all the blood up and made a temporary pen for them in a newly-tidied barn, and Dean had supplied the new arrivals with some barley and corn that he used to feed the cows, the moon was high in the sky and the crickets were beginning to chirp amongst the bushes.

The trio shuffled into the house tiredly and slumped onto the couches with aching muscles. Castiel nuzzled his son’s hair and held him tightly as the young omega began to shake with emotional exhaustion. It couldn’t have been easy for him to hold those chickens, feeling all of their fear and pain, Dean realised. No wonder poor Samandriel was trembling in his father’s arms.

Tears slipped down Samandriel’s cheeks as he clung to his father and Dean’s heart broke as he watched Samandriel try to hold himself together in silence. They had all been affected by the agonised cries of what Dean knew to be battery hens that hadn’t made the cut for slaughter, but only Samandriel could actually hear what had gone through the chickens’ minds earlier. Only he could feel how much pain they were truly suffering from.

Dean joined the angels on the other couch, taking Samandriel’s free side.

Castiel watched him, entirely trusting, as Dean pressed close to the young omega, massaging his wings and rubbing his back and petting his hair.

“They’ll be alright,” rumbled Dean in a tone that surprised even him.

Castiel didn’t seem to notice, but Samandriel let out a soft sob and pushed his wings into Dean’s touch insistently.

“We’ll get them better,” Dean said again in that unfamiliar tone and Samandriel quietened, attempting to even out his breaths.

“That’s it,” whispered Dean, carding his fingers through Samandriel’s wings. “We’ll look after them.”

Finally, Samandriel’s tears dried and he allowed Dean to fuss over him.

“Thanks, Dad,” he mumbled.

Dean smiled then froze as the words soaked into his brain. In the same moment, Samandriel winced and shook his head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” murmured Dean, even though his heart was pounding and his chest was warm and filling with joy once more. “It’s okay.”

He glanced up at Castiel and found the older angel staring at him with a tender gaze. For some reason, he didn’t want to look away.

“…Sometimes, I wish you were,” Samandriel said quietly against Castiel’s shirt.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat and his gaze snapped down to the little angel. He opened his mouth to ask a question but quickly snapped it shut again. Samandriel reached blindly behind him and grabbed Dean’s hand. There was a moment of silence where Dean was pretty certain that Samandriel was fishing through his thoughts for his unspoken question.

Finally, Samandriel spoke again, voice quiet and words Enochian. **_“Sometimes, I like to pretend that you’re my dad,”_** he whispered. **_“That I have two parents who love me.”_**

Dean licked his lips and glanced at Castiel, expecting to see a jealous frown or an unhappy halo. Instead, he was greeted with the scene of Castiel stroking Samandriel’s hair; eyes sad and remorseful.

When Dean didn’t immediately respond, Castiel flicked his gaze upwards, focusing on Dean expectantly and although Dean had million questions about Samandriel's other parent buzzing around his skull, he choked them all down in favour of focusing on Samandriel's sadness.

 ** _“Hey,”_** mumbled Dean, uncertain what to say to appease both angels. **_“You know your dad loves you. He always will.”_**

Samandriel twisted to stare at him shyly. **_“…What about you?”_**

Dean’s throat dried up and he swallowed before loudly clearing his throat. He didn’t know where to cast his gaze so he finally settled on the window as he rolled his shoulders. How was he supposed to respond to that? Did he feign ignorance as to the question? Did he change the subject? How could he possibly answer that loaded question without upsetting Castiel?

Samandriel’s expression slowly fell into one of rejection and Dean’s heart cracked at the sight.

 ** _“You know you’re always welcome here. You can talk to me any time you feel like,”_** said Dean, not quite meeting Samandriel’s gaze.

The young angel scowled. **_“That’s not what I asked but fine. Whatever. I understand.”_** He suddenly stood, wings stiff and halo a storm of black and blue. He marched away from the couch and towards the corridor that led to the bedrooms and Dean was quickly plagued with guilt.

 ** _“Of course I love you,”_** Dean blurted. He dropped his gaze to his feet when Samandriel froze. **_“Kid… you and your dad are the best things that have happened to me in a long, long time.”_**

Dean sighed, shoulders slumping. **_“I was alone and so depressed with where I was in life. Then you came barrelling into my lonely little world, kicking and fighting – quite literally – and honestly, I can’t imagine this house without you. It’s not been all that long since you arrived here, not really, yet when I’m at work, all I think about is you. When I see a new restaurant, I think about how I need to take you. When I see a movie commercial, I think about watching it with you. When I go grocery shopping, I think about all the stuff you haven’t tried yet.”_**

Dean glanced around the house at all the evidence of Castiel and Samandriel’s presence; framed drawings Samandriel had completed over weeks, books Castiel had read, discarded cupcake casings from the angels’ baking adventures the previous evening, colourful cushions that hadn’t been there when the angels had first arrived, Castiel’s tiny plant pots filled with thriving herbs lining the kitchen windowsill, Samandriel’s latest action figures scattered over the rug they had picked out together last week. They had even ordered a dining room table today – something Dean had lost when Lisa had left.

He looked around all the new trinkets that were already so familiar and wondered when the angels had made his house their home. He fingered a fluffy red cushion in wonder before closing his eyes.

**_“Don’t ever doubt that I love you, kid. You’re family.”_ **

When he finally dared to open his eyes, Samandriel’s halo shone the colour of the sun and he raced towards Dean, throwing his arms around his shoulders as he leaped at him. Dean let out a soft ‘oof’ but smiled when Samandriel cuddled closer, curling his wings around him possessively.

 ** _“You’re kinda the best thing that’s happened to us too,”_** whispered Samandriel as he settled on Dean’s lap and scented at his neck.

Dean exhaled quietly and wrapped his arms around the younger omega, holding him tight to his chest. Samandriel mewled happily and Dean rumbled in response as he scented Samandriel’s shoulder and neck. Cinnamon and pears and hints of rainforest filled his nose and he rasped his knuckles over Samandriel’s spine. He felt at home with those scents; as though all his problems would sort themselves out and nothing really mattered beyond the four walls of his house. He could finally rest when he was surrounded by that familiar scent.

Samandriel grinned against his neck and Dean knew that he had heard his thoughts. He squeezed the angel gently and nuzzled his hair. How could Samandriel have ever believed that Dean didn’t adore him? He would do anything for the kid. The little angel had him wrapped around his finger.

Samandriel’s grin widened and he snuggled even closer. He settled his head against Dean’s shoulder and let his eyes fall shut. Within minutes, he had drifted off to sleep, safe and secure in the alpha’s arms.

Dean kissed his head lightly and watched him for a few moments to ensure that he was sleeping peacefully. Once he was satisfied, he slid his gaze to Castiel and blinked in surprise at the… longing in Castiel’s eyes. Or maybe it was affection?

“Cas… what happened to Samandriel’s other parent?” Dean asked quietly, unwilling to disturb his slumbering charge.

Castiel abruptly looked away and Dean sagged slightly at the loss of… whatever had settled between them a few seconds ago.

“You don’t have to tell me if it’s too… y’know,” murmured Dean.

Castiel shook his head and reached for the notepad and pen that had taken up residence on the coffee table.

 

_Samandriel’s mother is no longer in the picture. She made her decision and I made mine._

Dean frowned at the cryptic explanation. “She’s alive then? She wasn’t… I don’t know… ravaged by war? Doesn’t she want to see her kid? Wait, did she come to Earth with you? Where is she?”

A disgusted expression swept over Castiel’s face.

 

_The last thing she wants is to see the child she birthed. And when I last saw her in The Silver City, she was very much alive._

Dean blinked in surprise. Castiel hadn’t carried Samandriel? It hadn’t occurred to him that Castiel could have impregnated someone – not that it changed anything.

“That sucks,” Dean said helplessly, unsure what else to say. “Not about her being alive… I mean that she doesn’t want to see Samandriel,” he rambled, unconsciously placing a hand over the back of Samandriel’s head, as though it could protect him from such heart-breaking words. Poor kid.

Castiel watched the protective gesture and smiled softly.

 

_Samandriel is well aware that his mother has no desire to see him. It is what it is. You are a better guardian than she has ever been._

Dean puffed his chest out a little in pride then immediately deflated when the movement jostled Samandriel.

Castiel’s eyes sparkled with amusement as Dean reorganised Samandriel into a more comfortable position.

“Don’t know how anyone couldn’t want this little guy,” hummed Dean fondly before flicking his gaze up to Castiel’s face. “Or you, for that matter. You guys are awesome. She clearly had a screw loose.”

Castiel’s lips tugged into a grin and he shook his head fondly. He scribbled out another message.

 

_You are a good man, Dean. Thank you. For everything._

Dean slung his arm over the back of the couch in a subtle invitation and Castiel easily relaxed into his side. Dean stroked a hand down a soft wing and smiled as the omega’s eyes slipped shut. Castiel smelled happy and that made the alpha happy.

“Come to bed,” Dean murmured, tangling his fingers in a thick patch of feathers. “I’ll groom you ‘til you fall asleep.”

Castiel cracked an eye open to stare at him with no small amount of interest. His wings fluffed a little at the suggestion.

 ** _“Can you groom me too?”_** Samandriel mumbled sleepily, face buried into Dean’s neck.

Dean chuckled and smoothed a hand down the young omega’s back. **_“Sure. Why not?”_**

In one fluid movement, Dean stood, picking Samandriel up with him as he gently pulled Castiel to his feet. He guided them both to his bedroom to make good on his promise.

 

*             *             *

 

Dean’s signing had improved drastically from those first few weeks of lessons and the alpha knew that he had Zephon to thank for that. The gold and violet-winged omega had noticed Dean’s inaptitude for the silent language a couple of months ago and had begun to spend more time with him; correcting his movements and reviewing signs that he had forgotten. He would stay behind after class ended to give Dean tips and had even offered to give him free personal tuition over coffee once or twice.

Dean had politely declined – he didn’t feel right taking someone’s time and not paying for their generosity.

Zephon had seemed disappointed, but it didn’t stop him from offering a private evening class; at a reduced price of course. Dean hadn’t realised he was that bad at signing.

Castiel had been acting strangely these past few classes. Dean had assumed that maybe he was just uncomfortable amongst so many people, but he seemed to be doing fine outside of the classroom. Maybe he didn’t like it when Dean kept drawing Zephon’s attention to them with his awful signing.

“Remember, facial expression is very important in the language of ASL,” said Zephon as he fixed his kind gaze on Dean. Dean smiled back in acknowledgement and the omega’s wings fluttered a little as he leaned back on his chair. He watched Dean try to combine the hand gesture with the correct facial movement and leaned forwards to carefully alter Dean’s hand position.

“Like this,” murmured Zephon, guiding Dean through the movement. His hands were warm against Dean’s and his dark eyes were soft and shining as he caught the alpha’s gaze.

Dean nodded absently as he tried to repeat the movements on his own. Beside him, Castiel shuffled in his seat.

A moment later, Zephon grasped his hands again and corrected his speed and Castiel narrowed his eyes, wings slowly unfurling either side of him.

“I think I’ve got it,” mumbled Dean as he attempted the gesture again. Zephon eyed Castiel warily before nodding and placing his hands on his lap.

“You’re quite correct,” he agreed quietly before standing and addressing the rest of the class. “Alright, I think we’ll stop here for today. You’ve all made a lot of progress and I’ll see you back here next week, same time.”

The class dispersed slowly and Dean decided to make a bathroom stop before he left. When he returned, Zephon and Castiel were staring at one another oddly, wings half-spread as they almost seemed to size one another up. Dean frowned at Castiel’s green-black halo and wondered what that particular combination of colours meant. He had never seen a green halo before.

“Dean,” Zephon greeted a second later, wings snapping behind his back into the familiar formal posture. “You did well today.”

“Thanks, man,” Dean said, attention caught on the withering glare Castiel sent their teacher.

Zephon glanced between them both slowly before clearing his throat and clasping his hands together. “So, Dean… have you thought any more on my offer of private tuition?”   

Dean huffed out a laugh. “And here I was thinking I was getting better at this stuff.” He shook his head. “Sorry, teach, I just don’t feel right using you like that. I’d want to pay you.”

Zephon seemed to assess Dean for a moment before lifting his chin, handsome features pinched slightly in what appeared to be nervousness.

“You could pay me in other ways,” he said airily. “Dinner, tomorrow night?”

Castiel’s halo flared a dazzling emerald as he clenched his fists and squared his jaw.

Dean blinked in surprise then scratched his neck awkwardly. He turned his apologetic gaze on Zephon.

“Ah… sorry. I’ve got a shift at the station tomorrow night. And besides, isn’t that a bit weird? Paying for tuition through food?” He paused thoughtfully. “Then again… not a bad payment.”

Zephon sagged. “Oh, I see. You’re working.” Beside them, Castiel smirked.

Dean shrugged. “Hey, maybe another time, yeah? I’m always up for food.”

Zephon immediately perked up, wings fluttering and shimmering under the light attractively. “Another time? Of course! Just… tell me when you’re available and we can sort out a lesson.”

Castiel’s face fell and he glanced between Dean and Zephon worriedly. Beside him, Samandriel furrowed his brow at Zephon.

“Sure,” nodded Dean. “Cas and I have been dying to try out the new Thai placed that opened up last month. Maybe we could go there?”

Castiel’s expression blossomed into a grin as Zephon’s faded into one of chagrin.

“You, me and… Castiel. Right,” said Zephon, deadpan.

“Don’t forget Samandriel,” Dean frowned before winking. “We’re a package deal.”

“Yes,” said Zephon, looking rather put out by something Dean had yet to analyse. “Well truthfully, I was thinking just the two of us. Castiel and Samandriel are… already so skilled in ASL.”

“Oh. Well… I kinda work better with them around,” admitted Dean. “Cas helps me a lot when I’m signing at home and Samandriel… well, Samandriel mostly tells me how terrible I am at both ASL and Enochian but I guess it wouldn’t do for me to get a big head, right?” He grinned at Samandriel and the young omega huffed out a laugh.

The corners of Zephon’s mouth tugged downwards. “I see. You two are mates, then?”

Dean frowned. “Huh?”

Dean’s clueless expression must have led to some sort of epiphany for Zephon for the omega’s eyes widened a fraction and he shook his head rapidly. “Ah… never mind. Tell me when you’re next free.”

Dean nodded. “Will do. See you soon, yeah?”

Zephon smiled and his feathers fluffed slightly as Dean led his angels towards the exit. Dean liked Zephon – he was such a thoughtful guy.

“So… green halo? Wanna clue me in?” Dean asked casually as he fished around his pocket for his car keys. It took him a moment to notice Castiel’s ruffled feathers and the glowing scarlet ring above his head. He paused as they reached the Impala and raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Castiel quickly shook his head and curled his fingers around the door handle impatiently. He tugged and was dismayed upon finding it locked.

“Dude,” Dean said worriedly. “You okay? You were acting kinda odd with Zephon earlier. Why were you two holding your wings like that?” He furrowed his brows. “Did he say something to you while I was in the bathroom?”

Castiel ducked his head a little, halo turning a deep cherry red. He tugged experimentally on the door handle once more.

“Green means jealousy,” chirped Samandriel suddenly and Castiel whirled around to shoot his son a hard expression. Samandriel thoroughly ignored him.

“Jealousy?” Dean repeated curiously. “Jealous of what?” He flicked his gaze to Castiel and found the angel wouldn’t meet his gaze. Dean racked his brain for a few moments.

“Wait, you’re not upset that he’s offering me free tuition, are you? It’s only ‘cos you’re so much better than me at that stuff. Apparently, I need the extra help,” he grumbled. “Take it as a compliment that he doesn’t think you need private lessons.”

Castiel fixed him with the deadpan look that he usually reserved for when Dean had done or said something incredibly stupid. Samandriel wore a bright grin, his wings shaking with restrained laughter.

Without breaking his gaze, Castiel pulled the door handle again and Dean’s mouth turned downwards as he unlocked the car, feeling as though he was somehow the butt of the joke. Was he missing something?

They drove home in silence, Dean trying to figure out why Castiel would be jealous about him being utterly useless at signing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww look at Samandriel making new buddies ;)


	18. Left Holding The Baby

_Hannah cried out in agony as the baby finally entered the world, wing nubs and all. The healer took the infant from her, whisking it away to a corner of the room and Hannah’s head slumped backwards into the scratchy pillows, skin flushed and slicked with sweat. Her head lolled to one side, glassy gaze flicking to the clinical white walls of the maternity ward._

_The baby wailed insistently from the corner of the room, despite the carers’ efforts to soothe it._

_Castiel squeezed his lover’s hand gently, stroking her knuckles with his thumb as he stared down at her with a worried frown. He had never seen her so defeated._

_“Congratulations. You have a healthy omega boy,” announced the healer._

_Hannah flinched, a soft whimper leaving her throat as she squeezed her eyes shut. Castiel grimaced and watched her gaze lose all emotion once more as she returned to staring at the walls._

_“Do you have a name prepared?” the healer continued obliviously._

_Hannah didn’t respond, choosing to focus on an ominous stain towards the bottom of the wall._

_“Madame?” pressed the healer._

_“No,” Hannah replied harshly and the healer recoiled slightly; the carers eying her with distaste._

_“…I see,” murmured the healer. He was a beta with a neutral scent – most likely masked by a perfume of sorts so as not to offend anyone – but he still managed to give the impression of disapproval. “Would you like to hold him?”_

_Hannah closed her eyes once more and shook her head._

_This time the healer pursed his lips and the carers began to whisper amongst themselves scathingly, wings twitching and halos spattered with disgusted shades of teal. The healer eyed Castiel disinterestedly. “I don’t suppose that you would like to hold your friend’s fledgling?”_

_They had informed the medical facility that they were merely friends and that Hannah’s mate (Gadreel, who had agreed to have his name printed on the birth certificate) was away on an important business trip. It was easier that way – people wouldn’t eye them in revulsion at the idea of two omegas in a relationship. They wouldn’t threaten them or attempt to call law enforcement regarding the welfare of a newborn under the care of two omega parents. People would respect them just a little bit more._

_“Uh…” Castiel said as the baby let out a distressed scream. “Okay, sure.” He frowned at himself and wondered why he had agreed to holding a baby he had no intention of keeping._

_The healer raised his eyebrows in surprise but retrieved the baby anyway and deposited it carefully into Castiel’s arms._

_The newborn sobbed a little at first and Castiel winced before correcting his arm position and suddenly, the baby quietened and scrunched its face up._

_Castiel stared down at the little pink creature with a ring of blue light encircling its temple, uncertain how anyone could want anything that screeched at the top of its lungs like this fledgling had. It was so small and fragile and… wrinkly. Newborns were ugly and loud and Castiel had no idea why anyone would volunteer to birth one._

_And then it opened its eyes._

_Cerulean blue pools gazed up at him, slightly unfocused but shining nonetheless. Castiel blinked down at the newborn’s eyes and it stared back at him, pupils flicking over his face curiously. Enraptured by the bright gaze that looked so similar to his own, Castiel shifted the baby into the crook of his arm and gently brushed the fingers of his free hand over one tiny palm._

_A delicate hand wrapped around his index finger and squeezed and suddenly, the baby’s halo blazed golden as it gurgled happily._

_A smile tugged at Castiel’s lips and he felt his feathers beginning to fluff with joy as the baby made a sound halfway between a giggle and a huff. It flexed its fingers around his own digit and watched his wings with wide eyes._

_He curled a wing half over the newborn, feeling a wave of protectiveness wash over him and he cooed softly at the baby, producing a sound he didn’t even realise he was capable of. The baby gripped his finger tightly and stared up at his face with huge, innocent eyes._

_“Samandriel,” he said abruptly before noticing that the healer was staring at him oddly. “I remember his father telling me he wished to call the boy ‘Samandriel’.”_

_The healer raised an eyebrow at Hannah and she gave Castiel a withering glare before nodding stiffly. “He wanted Samandriel,” she agreed quietly._

_The baby gurgled again and Castiel’s smile returned as he glanced down at the adorable creature. He held his child closer and stroked the few silky blond strands of hair perched atop his head._

_“Hello, Samandriel,” he whispered and the baby’s eyes crinkled in delight before he nestled into Castiel’s arms and allowed his long eyelashes to flutter against his cheeks as he calmed._

_Castiel curled his wings over his son protectively and marvelled at his perfect fingers and perfect toes and his perfect nose and his-_

_The healer cleared his throat pointedly._

_“May I?” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a demand and he held his arms out expectantly towards Castiel. For a moment, the omega considered growling at this stranger who wanted to steal his son away from him, but he quickly caught himself and frowned at the trance he had found himself in over one insignificant newborn._

_“My apologies,” mumbled Castiel as he reluctantly handed his so- the baby over._

_The healer shuffled over to the corner of the room again and Castiel watched him with a strange ache in his chest._

_He turned his gaze to Hannah and found her still staring at the wall despondently, so he gently wove his fingers with hers and waited for someone to tell him what to do._

_*             *             *_

_A couple of days later, Hannah was released from the medical facility with the instructions to take some anti-depressants for her apparent low mood. She had remained silent throughout her stay at the medical facility and since he had nothing better to do (and couldn’t get a response from Hannah), Castiel had spent time with their baby._

_It was, in fact, a cute little thing. It didn’t cry after that first time and its halo shone gold every time it laid eyes on Castiel. It giggled and smiled gummily and grabbed his fingers at every opportunity it got, and Castiel found his own halo shining a particular shade of golden that it hadn’t managed these past few months._

_The healers and carers obviously thought him odd; fussing over someone else’s baby as he was, and the rumours quickly circulated the medical facility about how he was an unmated omega in desperate need of a child before he lost his mind altogether. He knew of the rumours about his ‘dead mate and child’ who had perished in a horrific accident. He was particularly fond of the rumour about him being a crazed omega baby snatcher who stole other people’s newborns because he himself was infertile._

_The healers and carers kept a close eye on him but he didn’t allow himself to care. Samandriel made his short stay at the medical facility a delightful one and he found himself excited to bring the baby home._

_Hannah was… less pleased. She hadn’t once requested to hold their son, even when Castiel had offered him to her. She refused to even look at the baby._ _When they finally returned home, she immediately prowled into the kitchen and downed half a bottle of the nearest available alcohol, swallowing her pills with it. Castiel frowned and shifted Samandriel in his arms._

_“Hannah, I don’t think-”_

_“Tonight, we dump that thing at the orphan shelter and leave them to deal with it,” Hannah interrupted blandly. She took another gulp of deep brown liquid for good measure before eying her child in disgust._

_Castiel forced his wings to stop rising. He glanced down at Samandriel and his wide azure eyes. Samandriel grinned at him._

_“Hannah…”_

_“Better not get too attached,” said Hannah disinterestedly. “Let it be someone else’s problem; the quicker we get it out of here, the better.”_

_Panic simmered in Castiel’s chest as Samandriel stared up at him innocently. They had agreed to rid themselves of the child as soon as possible and he was still terrified of raising a little omega in this cruel world. He didn’t want people to change their perception of him just because he had a baby and he didn’t want his job to be affected. He wasn’t fond of the idea of soiled diapers and sleepless nights and he didn’t appreciate the thought of devoting at least eighteen years of his life to this tiny useless thing in his arms._

_And yet…_

_“…I was reading up about neonatal care and the book says the mother will pass her antibodies into the baby through colostrum in her milk. The baby needs those antibodies to help it fight infection. There are a lot of benefits to maternal milk, actually and some of them affect the mother,” he said hurriedly. “If you don’t release some of your milk, you’ll start to ache. Apparently, it can be quite painful.”_

_“I’ll manage,” spat Hannah, staring at Castiel suspiciously. “I just want that… that_ thing _out of our house.”_

_Castiel swallowed before steeling himself. “At least wait a month first,” he argued firmly. “Give it the best chance at survival before we get rid of it. We might not want it, but that doesn’t mean we have to make it suffer.”_

_Hannah narrowed her eyes at Castiel and Castiel scowled back. “He needs that colostrum. You’ll have definitely stopped producing it in a month’s time, but breast-feeding will help you both. It lowers the risk of him contracting disease and it also help your uterus shrink back to normal size, lowers your blood pressure, and might even reduce your risk of breast cancer. I’ve also read that it helps you return to pre-pregnancy size quicker. That’s what you want, isn’t it? For everything to return to normal, as though you never had a baby?”_

_Hannah finally slid her gaze to Samandriel, considering and Castiel held his breath._

_“Fine,” she mumbled. “Exactly one month. Then, we get rid of it.”_

_Castiel nodded stiffly and when she stalked upstairs to their nest, he released a breath and glanced at Samandriel sadly._

_*             *             *_

_Finding baby equipment at such short notice proved to be difficult, which was why Castiel was overwhelmed when Balthazar and Gadreel offered their own unused baby items._

_It hurt Castiel’s heart knowing that his friends had bought so much baby equipment in preparation for a child they had later been told they weren’t allowed to adopt; he ensured to bring Samandriel with him every time he visited their house and it made him smile to watch them fuss over him._

_Gadreel would hold him every chance he got and Balthazar could keep the little baby entertained for hours on end. They spoiled him with new toys and clothes and they even offered to change him when he had an accident. They fed him with bottles of Hannah’s breast milk that Castiel had prepared and they were meticulous in checking that the liquid wasn’t too hot or cold._

_They would have made the most adoring parents if only the law had been different._

_They taught Castiel a lot about parenthood, from how to correctly burp Samandriel to how many meals he should have in a day._

_Their care didn’t only extend to Samandriel either – they could see how exhausted Castiel was looking after Samandriel practically on his own (since Hannah had made it quite clear that she would do no more than the bare minimum for their son). On the days when Castiel looked dead on his feet after doing paperwork at home (since Hannah refused to take any time off from work to help out with the baby) and he had spent an entire day taking care of his son, Gadreel and Balthazar would slot him between them on the couch, one of them holding Samandriel as the other groomed Castiel and made him hot drinks and supplied him with cakes or biscuits._

_He wouldn’t have been able to cope without his friends and he told them as much whenever he saw them. In return, Balthazar and Gadreel kindly never mentioned how Hannah never joined him on these visits._

_Despite his exhaustion however, Castiel’s bond with Samandriel flourished. He fed and washed and clothed his son and when he had finished, he played with him and smiled when the baby laughed and nestled into him. Samandriel fell asleep against his chest countless times; Castiel’s heartbeat a soothing lullaby when the omega was too tired to do much more._

_He took Samandriel out sometimes in the pram that his friends had gifted him and people stopped him in the street to coo at Samandriel’s tiny features before proceeding to tell Castiel what a good father he was. It was… a pleasant change from all the nastiness he had experienced previously. Granted, he had to lie about the designation of his mate and he had to make out that they had a perfect relationship (which was probably the furthest thing from the truth right now), but for those few moments where the sun shone down on him and Samandriel and people respected him for parenting, Castiel found himself smiling._

_Samandriel didn’t even cry that much. He whimpered a little if he was hungry or wet, but it was nothing like the wailing and long sleepless nights that Castiel had been anticipating. If anything, Samandriel was a joyful child and Castiel could feel himself slowly being won over by his charming smiles and happy giggles._

_One evening, after a particularly difficult day where Samandriel had seemed fussier than usual, Castiel slumped between his best friends and leaned on Gadreel’s shoulder tiredly. The one-month mark was two days away and Castiel’s chest throbbed painfully. His whole demeanour was off and apparently, some of it had transferred to Samandriel because the baby hadn’t stopped crying for three hours now._

_Nothing Balthazar or Gadreel did would stop Samandriel’s insistent wails and Castiel squeezed his eyes shut against the heart-wrenching sounds. Why did he hurt so much all of a sudden?_

_"We drop him off at the orphanage in two days,” Castiel finally whispered._

_Gadreel stiffened and Balthazar cuddled Samandriel protectively as he turned an incredulous gaze upon Castiel._

_“What?” Gadreel whispered._

_Castiel dragged himself upright and stared at his lap. “He was to stay with us for a month to ensure he had the best possible chance at life.”_

_“You can’t,” growled Balthazar, scent souring angrily. “You can’t dump him like… like trash!” Samandriel’s wails grew louder._

_“We never wanted a baby!” Castiel hissed, suddenly angry himself – although at whom, he wasn’t entirely sure. “We knew we weren’t going to keep it.”_

_“Him,” corrected Gadreel with a voice like thunder. “You mean you knew you weren’t going to keep_ him _. Your son.”_

_Pain burst in Castiel’s chest like a venom-laced knife to the heart. “The decision to get rid of him was made months ago. You knew we didn’t want him!” Panic raced through his veins and gripped his mind, making his brain ache dully. The words tasted foul on his tongue._

_“You can’t,” insisted Balthazar almost desperately. “You can’t take him away.”_

_Castiel paused as the epiphany hit him. This wasn’t just about him and Hannah getting rid of their own child._

_Balthazar and Gadreel didn’t want to lose Samandriel either._

_Samandriel's cries worsened and he clutched Balthazar’s hand tightly, halo a deep blue and wing nubs trembling. He watched Balthazar hold his son that bit closer, wings beginning to curl around the tiny omega._

_He slowly turned his gaze to Gadreel’s usually impassive face and watched his mouth pull tight in fury as his eyes betrayed his fear. The alpha’s wings were stiff with uncertainty._

_“I…” Castiel began, shaking his head. “I can’t… I promised Hannah… She doesn’t want anything to do with him. I can’t raise him alone… I never wanted…” He trailed off and tracked his gaze back to Samandriel’s red face and tear-stained cheeks._

_“Don’t,” begged Gadreel softly in an unusual show of vulnerability. Castiel snapped his gaze to the alpha and watched agony dance behind his eyes._

_Castiel’s own gaze glittered with unshed tears and he looked away, unable to watch his friends’ pain any longer. He flinched at a piercing cry from Samandriel and then trembled as he realised that in two days, he would never hear another sound from his son again._

_Then, the most amazing idea hit him._

_He whipped his gaze up to his friends, glancing between them hurriedly. “Take him.”_

_Both of his friends furrowed their brows in confusion and Castiel straightened excitedly._

_“Take him,” he insisted. “We’ll give all your stuff back and he’ll be yours. You’ll even have your name on his birth certificate! No one will ever be able to take him from you because on paper, it looks like you’re his biological father. You two will finally have that child you always wanted and… and Hannah will be happy that she doesn’t have to deal with a baby!”_

_Gadreel and Balthazar frowned at one another, trying to process all the information, then their eyes widened and smiles split their faces._

_“You’re sure?” Balthazar asked eagerly. “You’re sure you want us to have him?”_

_Castiel hesitated, glancing at Samandriel for a long moment as memories of their short time together flew through his brain. Samandriel had ceased crying and was looking between them all in confusion and Castiel smiled sadly at his creased brow before tracking his gaze up to a suddenly concerned-looking Balthazar._

_“Yes,” Castiel murmured. “Yes, I want you to have him. I know he would have a good life with you both. The best, actually. I’ve seen how you are with him; I know he’d be loved.”_

_“Castiel,” choked Gadreel, a gentle hand on his shoulder as Balthazar continued to watch him worriedly. “Castiel, you have no idea how much this means to us. Thank you.”_

_“Are you sure?” Balthazar said again in a strange tone. “Are you completely certain that you want to give him to us?”_

_Castiel hesitated once more before nodding. “Yes,” he insisted. “I can think of no better parents for him.”_

_He startled when Gadreel dragged him in for an abrupt hug and he melted against his usually stoic friend and wrapped his wings around him as Gadreel returned the gesture._

_“Thank you,” Gadreel breathed against his neck and Castiel huffed softly, attempting to hide the tears slipping down his cheeks._

_“I should be saying that to you,” whispered Castiel shakily and he wondered why the words tasted wrong._

_Balthazar massaged the tension out of the space between his wings. “You can visit him any time you want,” the beta murmured quietly. “…He doesn’t have to have only two parents…”_

_Castiel’s breath hitched and he felt Gadreel shift against him, suddenly concerned. “Castiel? Are you alright?”_

_Castiel nodded, not trusting his voice to stay steady. His wings were shaking and his halo was reflecting a deep blue glow against the couch._

_“Castiel,” Gadreel said in alarm and he tried to pull back only for the omega to tighten his grip and tug him back into a hug._

_“I’m fine,” Castiel whispered, voice cracking. “I’m… I’m happy for you.”_

_He could feel them staring at his halo and he knew they could tell he was lying. Gadreel held him tighter and nuzzled his hair as Balthazar pressed in behind him, snaking his arms around his stomach and leaning his forehead against the back of Castiel’s neck. He felt Samandriel nudge his feet and knew his son had been carefully placed on the floor whilst Castiel's friends tended to him instead._

_A sob escaped Castiel’s throat before he could stop it and his friends only held him closer. He couldn’t remember the last time Hannah had held him like this._

_“You want to keep him,” Balthazar whispered against his neck._

_“No,” argued Castiel weakly. “I never wanted-”_

_“But you do now,” murmured Balthazar as he blanketed the three of them in his wings. “You love him.”_

_Castiel shook his head. “I’m not ready for a baby. I can’t…”_

_“You can,” said Gadreel softly. “You have been. He loves you so much already.”_

_Castiel paused, basking in the weight and heat of his friends against his body. He hadn’t realised how touch-starved he was._

_“I can’t do this alone,” Castiel confessed. “Hannah doesn’t want him and I can’t…”_

_Balthazar shushed him and raked a hand through his wing. Castiel shuddered and leaned into the touch._

_“You have us,” Gadreel whispered. “You’re not alone. We won’t let you struggle alone.”_

_Castiel clutched the alpha’s shirt and tangled his other hand in the base of his wing, tears sliding freely down his face. “She’ll hate me. If she finds out I want to keep him…”_

_“He’s your son,” Balthazar hissed fiercely. “She can go screw herself!”_

_“He’s her son too,” whispered Castiel. “And her house. We live together but it’s under her name. I can’t force her to take in a child she doesn’t want.”_

_“Then leave her,” Balthazar growled as he nuzzled into Castiel’s neck. “She doesn’t deserve you. She’s never deserved you.”_

_“Love,” Gadreel chided softly and Balthazar huffed and raked his fingers through Castiel’s feathers possessively._

_Castiel made a soft noise in the back of his throat and closed his eyes as his stretched his wing for the beta. He knew his friends didn’t enjoy Hannah’s company and he had long since given up trying to patch things up between them. They tolerated one another for his sake and he supposed it would have to do._

_“I love her,” sighed Castiel. “I can’t just leave her and return to my ratty apartment in Epsilon. It’s certainly no place to raise a child and I wouldn’t want to without Hannah.”_

_Gadreel hummed with empathy and stroked Castiel’s hair before gently swiping drying tears from his face. Castiel basked in all the attention._

_“Talk to her,” he suggested. “Tell her how you feel.”_

_Castiel nestled against Gadreel’s shoulder and smiled when the alpha rubbed a warm palm up and down his side. He hadn’t realised just how long he had gone without full body touch. When was the last time he and Hannah had shared any intimacy? Three months? Four months? She hadn’t let him touch her in her later stages of pregnancy, claiming she was disgusted with the size of her own misshapen body._

_How was it that Gadreel and Balthazar always knew exactly how to take care of him?_

_Now that the waves of panic and fear and sadness had drifted away, he could think clearly and he cast his gaze to Samandriel, who was fascinated by his own hands._

_“Take him for now,” Castiel said quietly. “It’ll give me a chance to talk things over with Hannah.”_

_He smirked when two bursts of gold light bounced off the shiny couch._

_“You sure?” Balthazar asked._

_Castiel didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes. I need time.” He finally glanced up to his friends and grinned at their matching golden halos and fluttering wings. “As long as you don’t mind looking after him?”_

_“Nope!” Balthazar said eagerly before draping himself over the omega with a happy hum._

_“We’ll still be able to visit him if Hannah chooses to keep him… won’t we?” Gadreel asked tentatively and Castiel chuckled and nodded._

_“Parents’ Day at school will certainly be an interesting affair.”_

_Gadreel rumbled in the way all alphas tended to do when they were extremely happy. He continued fussing over Castiel’s hair and sides and back and Castiel closed his eyes at the alpha’s constant purring. Despite being a transitioned beta, Balthazar retained some biological alpha traits and Castiel laughed when a second set of purrs joined the first._

_Samandriel’s cries had stopped a while ago and the room filled with joyful scents and sounds._

_Castiel finally dared to hope that he could be happy._

*             *             *

 

Dean stared up at the hen moodily. It was perched on a mouldy bag of… _something_ in the storage area overlooking the rest of the barn twenty five feet below. He had no idea how it had flown so high but he did know that he wasn’t willing to climb the rotting ladder that would allow him access to the rarely used shelf; the thing’s rungs were practically melting after so many years of disuse.

Around him, healing hens clucked up to their missing companion, feathers ruffled and eyes wide as they watched Dean warily.

“How am I supposed to get you down?” Dean asked himself, glancing around the barn for inspiration.

As though summoned by Dean’s dilemma, Castiel wandered into the huge barn, one contented hen tucked under his arm. He came to a halt beside Dean and followed his line of sight towards the rafters until his gaze finally fell on the hen trapped on the storage shelf.

“How did she even get up there?” Dean asked incredulously as Castiel carefully placed his feathered charge beside her sisters.

Dean startled as Castiel’s onyx wings snapped outwards and the angel suddenly launched himself into the air with a power Dean hadn’t expected. His back muscles shifted fluidly under the thin fabric of his shirt and Dean watched in awe as the angel hovered in mid-air just long enough to scoop up the squawking chicken and hold her to his chest, before drifting to the ground again.

His feathers shone under the light pouring in through the windows and Dean was struck by how much healthier they looked now compared to when he had first arrived; how plush the feathers were and how densely clustered they appeared. Castiel’s wings had been littered with bald patches and damaged feathers when he had first arrived at the farm, but now they were thick and fluffy, and although some evidence of Castiel’s past remained in the scars and burns painting the skin beneath, Dean couldn’t help but admire the change.

And when had Castiel developed all that hard muscle and tanned skin?

Castiel landed lightly beside him and placed the hen on the ground, smiling when she sprinted off to the other side of the barn with a panicked squawk. He straightened and turned to Dean with bright eyes and a lopsided grin and the alpha swallowed thickly, suddenly transfixed by his striking electric gaze.

“Thanks,” he managed, licking his lips and berating himself for staring for too long. How was it fair that Cas looked this hot covered in hay and chicken crap whilst smelling like the inside of a cow shed?

Castiel nodded and pulled a few straws of hay from his feathers, so Dean used the opportunity to flee the barn and check on Hera. He had never been interested in guys before but Castiel was doing an efficient job at changing all that. He shook his head and allowed Hera out of her stable before unravelling her empty hay net.

Under different circumstances, he might have been willing to broaden his horizons a little and take a chance on asking the guy out, but this was _Cas_ and no way would he make his ang- _the_ angel uncomfortable. He pressed his head against the cool stable wall and sighed heavily through his nose. Castiel had been through enough – this wasn’t the time to entertain Dean’s experimentation fantasies.

He wandered outside with the empty net but paused at the scene of Castiel staring up at the sky, wings spanned wide as though in preparation for flight. He rolled his shoulders and Dean watched his muscles ripple with a dry mouth. Then the omega drew his wings towards his back again and shrugged off his shirt and Dean was treated to sweat-slicked skin and broad shoulders.

Castiel tied his shirt around his waist and hoisted a barrel of water onto his shoulder before continuing his way to the water trough at the far end of the field. Dean’s gaze followed him and he barely noticed the canvas of scars and burns marring Castiel’s body in favour of tracking the beads of sweat rolling down his neck and the way his wings swayed attractively as he walked.

Dean closed his eyes and internally groaned. He obviously needed to get laid. He couldn’t start having fantasies about the poor omega after all he had suffered, regardless of how gorgeous he looked in the midday heat.

When was the last time he had actually slept with anyone anyway? Lisa? If he wasn’t careful, his balls would probably atrophy and drop off.

“Hey! Kendoll! Any chance we can pet the cows?”

Dean startled and turned to the two teens draped over his gate. From the corner of his eye he watched Castiel hastily throw his shirt over his head.

“Claire! Alex!” Dean grinned as they hopped over the fence and sauntered over to him. They each hugged him and surveyed the field, eyes eventually landing on Castiel.

“Woah… who’s the beefcake?” Alex asked, gaze roaming appreciatively over Castiel’s now-clothed form.

He approached them cautiously and Claire suddenly straightened. “Wait, is he that omega from the news? The one who started off the whole ‘illegal prostitution village’ business? The first one the police rescued?”

Dean’s mouth drew into a thin line and he nodded. Alex and Claire had gone to university in New York, meaning that the Ketch case must have been broadcast across the nation.

“Don’t look so grumpy. The only reason I know you were looking after the angel is because Jody filled me in. You’ve got another one, right? A kid?” Claire eyed Castiel curiously. “That village was all over the news but they never actually mentioned any of the omegas they rescued. What’s his name?”

“Castiel,” mumbled Dean, offering Castiel a brief smile to show him that he was safe. Immediately, the angel relaxed and came to stand in front of the two girls. “The kid, Samandriel, is inside doing his homework.”

“Nice to meet you, Cas. I’m Claire and the one who's drooling over you is Alex. We’re the sheriff’s kids. Well, adopted.” She held a hand out and Castiel gingerly shook it as Alex elbowed the younger teen.

“Claire and Alex are usually out in New York, supposedly studying, but I question how much of that they actually do,” hummed Dean, earning himself two offended glances.

“We were going to pop by to see how you were since… y’know,” said Claire, looking at least a little sympathetic when Dean grimaced at the reminder of his break-up. “But then we noticed you’ve got cows and we thought we’d say hi to them instead.”

Dean rolled his eyes and let his gaze drift to Castiel. “Hey, why don’t you show these guys around and I’ll grab some lemonade for us all? Maybe a couple of cookies or something?”

The angel blinked at him in surprise before nodding slowly and Dean patted him on the back. “Awesome. Back in a sec.” He turned to Alex and Claire. “Don’t go terrorising my animals.”

“As if,” snorted Claire, a particularly wicked gleam entering her eyes as she caught sight of Zeus.

Dean pulled a face and wandered into the house, grabbing Samandriel before he re-joined the trio with refreshments.

 

*             *             *

 

“So, Claire and Alex got me thinking,” began Dean as the credits to _Indiana Jones_ rolled over the screen. The three of them were perched on the couch, Samandriel’s head on Dean’s lap and one of Castiel’s great wings curled around them both.

Both angels turned to face him and Dean continued. “I was thinking we could maybe open this place up to the public? Get people to see the animals for a small entrance fee.” Dean focused on Castiel. “I was thinking it would give you something to do around here when I’m working and Samandriel’s at school. Now, it’s your choice, but if you want to do it, I’d let you have all the profits and you could save it all up, maybe open a bank account. I’d keep buying feeds and all that other stuff, but it would be your job to show people ‘round, keep them and the animals safe. I’d help you manage the farm the same as I do now, but I just though… y’know… it could be useful for you.”

Dean frowned and glanced at the TV. “I mean… once you eventually leave here, you’re gonna need some money to get you started and I’d always help you out, but this’ll be money you earned yourself. You can do whatever you want with it.”

He finally dragged his gaze back to Castiel and found the omega staring at him in astonishment.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with a bunch of people coming up to the house,” began Dean but Castiel shook his head rapidly as his halo shone a bright gold. He placed a hand on Dean’s arm and stared at him gratefully, a smile tugging at his lips as he nodded.

“You want to do something like that?” Dean asked and once again Castiel nodded, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. He squeezed Dean’s arm gently in thanks and the alpha felt a grin blossom over his own features.

He slung an arm around Castiel’s shoulders and the angel fell against him, leaning into his side contentedly.

Dean marvelled at that. He gazed at the omega in awe, trying to remember when he had become so comfortable around Dean. He recalled the terrified, thin, broken shell of a creature that had first walked into his house all those months ago and he stared down at Castiel with pride. He had overcome so much. He was trying so hard to fix himself; to get better. Castiel was incredibly strong and Dean was so proud of him.

“You’re freakin’ amazing, y’know,” Dean murmured when the silence stretched on.

Castiel blinked in surprise and cocked an eyebrow at Dean.

“It’s true,” Dean whispered, enraptured by that vibrant blue gaze. “You’ve come so far in such a short space of time. I don’t know how you’ve done it.”

Castiel stared at him in surprise before dropping his gaze almost shyly. His hand slipped over Dean’s thigh and the alpha licked his dry lips as he basked in the knowledge that Castiel was no longer afraid of touching him.

Samandriel snuggled further into his lap with fluttering wings. “Because you take such good care of us,” he hummed. 

Dean’s heart melted into a puddle somewhere around his feet. He smoothed a hand down a snowy wing and squeezed both his angels gently. He realised he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this happy.

He glanced down at the empty, curry-stained plates littering the table and the box of chocolates they had devoured. Castiel had cooked tonight and Dean noted his improvements since last month – he had learned quickly under Dean’s instruction. The room was dimly lit as the TV flickered quietly and Dean was warm and relaxed, surrounded by Castiel’s little pile of books and Samandriel’s paintbrushes and sketchbooks and newest toys.

When had his life become so domestic?

Not that he was complaining. He looked forward to coming home after a long day at work now – he actually had something to come home for. He was pretty certain that his angels had saved him from crippling depression after the whole Lisa fiasco. They were even healing the parts of him that were still tormented by his parents’ deaths.

“You saved us too,” whispered Samandriel and Dean blinked down at the young angel before realising that the omega had a hand over his and was listening to his internal monologue.

“I just got you out of the hostel,” shrugged Dean but Samandriel shook his head and squeezed his fingers.

“You saved us,” he insisted. “You… you kept us safe.”

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, unused to the praise. “I’m a cop. It’s my job.”

Samandriel pulled a face and shook his head once more. “It’s not your job to love us, but you do that too.”

Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and coughed. He considered grabbing the empty plates and fleeing to the kitchen when the doorbell suddenly sounded.

_Saved by the bell._

He stood and made a hasty retreat to the door, avoiding the affectionate gazes of both angels as he opened the door without looking to see who had decided to visit.

“Mr. Winchester,” greeted a familiar older woman with a strict face and an authoritative scent.

“Helen,” Dean said in surprise. “Uh… to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She raised a clipboard that Dean hadn’t previously noticed. “Routine inspection,” she said lightly. “You’ve had your charges for over six months now.”

Dean hesitated. Had Castiel and Samandriel really been living with him for that long?

“May I come in?”

Dean startled and stepped aside, allowing her entrance. She glanced around the living room curiously and Dean watched as Castiel subtly curled his wing around Samandriel, shielding him from Helen’s gaze as he narrowed his eyes at her. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by the older beta.

“You’re still struggling with trust issues, I take it?” she hummed, glancing briefly at Dean.

Dean frowned in confusion. “Uh… no, actually. Not at all.”

Helen eyed him as though she didn’t believe him. She took a step towards the angels and Castiel tugged his son a little closer. Dean frowned then cocked an eyebrow at Castiel in silent query. The omega met his gaze with an almost nervous expression before returning his focus to Helen.

“How have they been?” Helen asked. “Any problems since Ms. Talbot’s visit?”

Dean shook his head slowly. “No. And they’ve been… great. Don’t know what I’d have done without them.”

“How so?”

Dean subtly shuffled over to his angels, not liking their suddenly defensive and distrusting behaviour. They hadn’t acted like this for a long time and Dean could see Castiel’s muscles actively tensing in preparation to attack. He didn’t understand why the omega was suddenly acting so hostile.

“They help me around the farm every day and they keep me company when I need it most,” said Dean carefully.

Helen watched the angels with an unreadable expression. “I see,” she said quietly. “And there have been no further… incidents regarding Castiel? It isn’t too late to check him into a psychiatric facility; a place they’ll truly be able to help him work through the trauma he’s suffered.”

Dean scowled and gave up on edging covertly towards the angels. He crossed the distance between them and pointedly stood beside Castiel. “Here’s an idea; why don’t we ask him what he wants to do? Cas, you wanna stay here or do you wanna check into some mental hospital?”

Castiel pointed to the floor.

“And there we have it,” said Dean sarcastically. “Looks like he wants to stay.”

Helen wore a tight-lipped smile. “I’m only asking questions, Mr. Winchester.”

“Well, we’re doing fine so if that’s all…”

She glanced from the floor littered with toys and sketchpads to the table piled with books and a half-demolished chocolate box, and the spare couch cluttered with CDs and DVDs Dean and Castiel had been browsing through earlier.

“How do Samandriel and Castiel afford for their belongings? Do you pay them for labour?”

Dean frowned. “I buy them stuff they like. Sometimes I get them little presents if something catches my eye. They don’t ask for much.”

Helen wrote something on her clipboard and Dean shifted uncomfortably. “We’ve been discussing turning this place into a petting farm. Cas would show people around, let ‘em feed the animals and stuff and we’d charge a small entrance fee, which would be deposited into Cas’ bank account. I’d buy all the feeds and other bits and Cas would get the profit. Thought it would give him some money to start with once he completes the programme.”

Helen furrowed her brows and eyed Dean cautiously. “…Mr. Winchester… you remember what we agreed upon when you first took Samandriel and Castiel home? Samandriel is allowed to enter the programme due to his young age, but his father… well…” She watched the corners of Castiel’s mouth draw downwards. “I’m sorry, Castiel, but you’re just too unpredictable to be allowed out into public. You injured how many of my staff members when you arrived?”

“Shut up!” Samandriel snapped. “My dad’s not dangerous! You can’t keep him locked away forever! It isn’t fair!”

Helen’s eyes widened at the slew of clear English and Dean spoke up before she had a chance to recover.

“He’s right. Cas isn’t dangerous. He was just scared and protective of his kid when he came to you. And honestly, do you blame him? He just needed time to heal.”

“Mr. Winchester, I cannot in good conscience allow you to let Castiel loose on the public,” huffed Helen. “You know how he can be. Bela told me he attacked you too.”

Dean waved a hand in dismissal. “Misunderstanding. Besides, how do you expect victims of abuse to get better if you don’t eventually introduce them to the real world? You can’t live in a bubble forever, and Cas is doing great. Both of them are. Right, guys?”

Samandriel nodded firmly and Castiel’s gaze softened as he nodded gratefully at Dean.

 _‘Yes,’_ he signed. _‘Far better than we were.’_

Helen frowned at the hand gestures in confusion.

“We’re all learning to sign,” Dean supplied. “He said they’re doing better than they were.”

The beta pursed her lips. “That may be so, but Castiel is still highly-”

“Look,” huffed Dean. “These guys deserve a chance to be normal. After everything they’ve faced on Earth and Heaven, I think it’s time someone took their side. Samandriel’s going to school and Cas is gonna start working a simple job and isn’t that what you wanted? To help them become functioning members of society? Isn’t that what you want of all your refugees?”

Helen crossed her arms and flicked her gaze between Samandriel and Castiel. “Yes, but I want to ensure the public will be safe during the process.”

“They will be,” insisted Dean. “Cas isn’t violent. He isn’t an aggressive guy.”

Her lips drew into a thin line and her gaze roamed over Castiel’s muscular figure and powerful wings. “They look healthier,” she conceded as her gaze flicked to Samandriel’s fluffy wings and tanned skin.

“We’re happier, too,” said Samandriel boldly. “Dean is really good to us. He even lets me sleep in his bed when I have nightmares. And he makes the best burgers.”

Helen’s gaze softened a little once she got over the initial shock of Samandriel’s near-fluent English.

“And was he the one who taught you English?” Helen asked gently.

Samandriel nodded. “Him and Dad. They still have stuff to teach me, but I’m getting better.”

Helen glanced at Castiel for a long minute and the omega pulled his son closer, meeting her gaze almost nervously. It struck Dean that the older angel was frightened of Helen taking his son away, like she had the first time they had met.

He placed a reassuring hand on Castiel’s back. He wouldn’t let her do that again.

Finally, Helen sighed. “Alright,” she muttered. “I’ll approve Castiel for the programme.”

Dean’s heart skipped a beat.

“But,” Helen warned sternly, “if I hear one report of you attacking anyone, you’re kicked off, understand? I don’t like it, but Dean’s right – the whole point is to integrate you into society and if he’s willing to trust you then I’d better give you a chance.” She scowled at Castiel and the angel blinked at her with wide, stunned eyes.

“Don’t let me down,” said Helen, gaze flitting between the three of them. “All of you.”

She lifted her chin and gestured to the door. “I’ll see myself out,” she sniffed before doing just that.

Dean turned to the angels, speechless, and both angels stared back at him in shock.

Suddenly, Samandriel’s wings flapped wildly and he lunged at his father. **_“Dad! Your papers!”_**

Castiel opened his mouth as if to speak before a smile blossomed over his face and he hugged his son tightly. He glanced up at Dean all bright eyed and hopeful and Dean had never wanted to kiss those pink lips more than he did in that moment.

He banished the thought and clapped the angel on the back. “Congratulations, man.”

Castiel’s features crinkled in delight and he buried his face into his son’s neck with a wiggle of raven wings.

Today had been a good day.

 

*             *             *

 

Dean missed the familiar scent of his brother clogging up his office. He sighed softly and attempted to focus his gaze of the papers in front of him; at this rate he would need glasses by the end of the year.

Another kidnapping. Another angel. Another omega.

It was incredibly frustrating. If they didn’t find a way to stop this soon, omega angels and demons would have to be escorted outside at all times and nobody wanted that – the poor things had fled their home planets to get away from that sort of thing.

The angel had been reported missing by a neighbour and a witness stated that they had seen the omega make her way to her parked car behind the local off-license, only to never actually drive away. No one had actually seen what had happened to her but Dean would bet his left kidney on these so-called ‘Red Devils’ having taken her, especially after the same witness reported a white van speeding away minutes later.

Dean rubbed at his temple and reviewed the case report once more. If these kidnappings truly were part of some big, nation-wide operation, who knew how many omegas were suffering in the same way that Castiel and Samandriel had? Who knew how long they had been in the system?

What kind of sicko was behind all of this?

“Stare at that report any longer and it might burst into flames.”

Dean startled, wincing as his knee hit the bottom of his desk. “Hey, Vic,” he sighed once the pain ebbed.

His boss slipped further into the room and glanced down at the report with a pitying expression. “Poor woman.”

Dean closed his eyes, trying not to think about all the horrors she was probably facing. “How do we stop this?” he whispered. “How do we catch these guys?”

Victor shook his head sadly and perched on the corner of his desk. “No idea. Even the feds are stumped. Vics are pretty random other than the fact they’re all non-human and omegas.”

“There’s got to be something,” mumbled Dean. “Something that links them all. Something that’ll help us predict the next vic.”

“Well… when you figure it out, share with the class,” sighed Victor. “No one’s been able to discover anything new on this in months.”

“We have to be missing something,” scowled Dean. “Why just angels and demons? Why not humans? Why omegas?”

Victor watched Dean sympathetically before sliding off the desk. “Don’t stay too late, Dean. Those angels of yours will start to worry. The case’ll still be here in the morning.”

Dean nodded defeatedly, running a hand through his hair. “Hey, Vic, can I take this file home?” Maybe a change in environment would offer some inspiration.

Victor eyed him for a moment before nodding. “As long as you bring it back.” The door clicked shut behind him.

Dean dug the heels of his palms into his eyes before tucking the file under his arm and following his boss out of the empty station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aren't Gadreel and Balthazar such good friends? ;)


	19. The Suggestion

_“I’m done with this conversation, Castiel!” Hannah hissed. “My answer is no! I’m not keeping that… that mistake!”_

_Castiel’s wings flared even wider, matching Hannah’s stance. His halo burned black and he clenched his fists angrily. “He’s our son!”_

_“I never wanted a son!” Hannah snarled, eyes flashing blue in fury._ “We _never wanted a son! We were supposed to get rid of it!”_

_“I changed my mind!” Castiel snapped a little hysterically. “I changed my mind because he’s my child and I can’t just dump him as though he doesn’t mean anything!”_

_“You promised,” Hannah hissed fiercely. “You promised we would get rid of it after a month. You promised I wouldn’t have to have anything to do with it after one month.”_

_Castiel threw his hands up. “I changed my mind!”_

_“You don’t get to change your mind about this!” Hannah yelled desperately. “I don’t want a baby!”_

_“We’ve already got one,” Castiel snapped, eyes glowing just as brightly as Hannah’s. “And I can’t just… I can’t just give him up. He’s my son and I… I want to at least_ try _to be his father.”_

 _“I’m not ready to be a mother,” Hannah said, shaking her head and pulling her wings tight to her back. “I can’t be a mother. I don’t_ want _to be a mother. I don’t want to give my life up to a baby.”_

_“We made a mistake,” said Castiel, closing his eyes in an attempt at calming down. “We have to take responsibility for it. Samandriel is our child – we can’t just get rid of him like a broken toy.”_

_Hannah shook her head again, frantic and unwilling to consider Castiel’s argument. “I can’t,” she repeated. “I won’t. I don’t want him. I’ll never love him.”_

_“Hannah-”_

_“Where is he now?”_

_Castiel blinked then frowned. “With Gadreel and Balthazar.”_

_Hannah’s lips drew into a hard line. “Great. Let them keep it.”_

_Castiel scowled. “I want my son,” he said firmly. “I want to raise_ my _son.”_

_“It’s my child too!” Hannah yelled. “I get a say in this too, Castiel! I don’t want a baby in this house! Gadreel and Balthazar will dote on it. They’ve always wanted a little brat anyway – it’ll have two parents who love it rather than one who doesn’t and another who’ll only half-ass its upbringing anyway!”_

_Castiel’s feathers puffed out in affront. “I won’t ‘half-ass’ anything,” he growled._

_“You have no idea how to raise a fledgling,” scoffed Hannah. “Up until a month ago, you were intent on abandoning it on the doorstep of an orphanage.”_

_“I’ll figure it out as I go,” defended Castiel. “I’ll read books, I’ll ask other parents, I’ll go to infant classes… I’ll give my son the best chance at a happy home.”_

_“He’s an omega!” Hannah snarled. “He’ll never have a happy home! He’ll never have a happy life! At least if you get rid of him, you won’t have to see his disappointment with the world. You won’t have to see his face fall after every insult from the other fledglings. You won’t have to hear him cry at night when his classmates shove him to the floor and laugh. You won’t have to watch his heart break when teens tell him that he’s only good for sucking a knot. You won’t have to hear him whimper when adults tell him that he’s only good for cleaning the house and raising fledglings. You won’t have to hear him sob when that first beta decides to punish him for talking back and rubs their oil over his wings before he has a chance to stop them. You won’t have to watch the light fade from his eyes after the first time he hits his heat and a group of alphas corner him in an alley and take turns on him.”_

_“I’ll protect him,” hissed Castiel. “I won’t let him go through the things we have.”_

_Hannah snorted and looked away, crossing her arms. “You really believe you’re going to have a choice in that?”_

_“I can at least try!” he said desperately. “Hannah, please. I’ll never forgive myself if I let him go now. I… I can’t stand the thought of never seeing him again.”_

_Hannah was silent for a few moments, staring around the nest they had made months ago but hadn’t got around to truly maintaining. The place was a sad excuse for a nest really – the happy scents that had once coated every inch of the room had long faded and the projected stars that had originally speckled the ceiling hadn’t glowed in weeks. Their feathers had once littered the room; a display of the comfortableness around one another, but now there wasn’t a single one in sight. Many of the quirky trinkets they had bought one another had been tossed out with other things that had seemed to clutter the space and now the bedroom was literally just that – a room with a bed. There was hardly anything personal about it anymore and Castiel’s heart ached as he realised just how empty the place was._

_“If you want the thing, you can have it,” Hannah said finally. “But don’t expect me to care for it. If you want to keep it, then you have to look after it. I won’t have anything to do with it.”_

_Castiel opened his mouth then shut it almost immediately. “Okay,” he managed quietly. He watched Hannah close her eyes and felt another invisible wedge drive itself between them._

_Hannah disappeared into the bathroom without even a backwards glance._

_*             *             *_

_“Mama, mama! Look what I drawed!”_

_Samandriel was a slim two-year-old with huge blue eyes and tufts of blond hair that never quite lay flat. When he ran, he gave the impression that he wasn’t entirely sure how legs worked but he was doing his best with the inconvenience._

_He ran into Hannah’s shin before his brain got a chance to process that the legs needed to stop moving and she grimaced and took a pointed step backwards as he held up his drawing of a slightly wonky lightwing – a tiny bird-like creature that glowed purple, orange and green when it flew. He hadn’t managed to colour completely inside the lines, but it was still apparent what the creature was._

_Hannah glanced down expressionlessly at the fledgling before walking away. As usual, Samandriel’s shoulders sagged and he stared at his drawing in disappointment, wondering why his mama rarely spoke to him other than to scold him for something he wasn’t supposed to be doing._

_“Samandriel? Can I have a look at what you’ve drawn?”_

_Immediately, Samandriel brightened and he turned to see his papa leaning in the kitchen doorway with his hands clasped around a mug. His papa always wanted to see his drawings and he always told him stories before bed and cuddled him when he asked for one. He loved his papa very much._

_He loved his mama too, but he secretly thought she wasn’t as nice as papa. He would never tell her though, because he didn’t want to upset her. His papa always said ‘if you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all’. His papa usually said it to his mama though when they were fighting. Samandriel thought they fought a lot but maybe that was normal for mamas and papas._

_He beamed and ran over to his papa, stopping before he crashed into his leg. He thrust the drawing at his papa and his papa raised his eyebrows and crouched down._

_“This is very good,” he told Samandriel. “Is it a lightwing?”_

_Samandriel nodded proudly._

_“I love her feathers,” Castiel smiled. “Did you draw her all by yourself?”_

_Samandriel nodded again, corners of his eyes crinkling as his grin widened._

_“You know what? I think this is the best you’ve ever done. Shall we put her on the fridge?”_

_Samandriel’s wings wiggled excitedly and his papa chuckled and ruffled his hair before carefully attaching his artwork to the side of the fridge where everyone could see it when they walked into the kitchen. He knew his mama would probably take it down in the morning like she usually did with his drawings, which would probably lead to another argument between his mama and papa, but he still loved seeing his art on the fridge. It meant that his papa was proud of him._

_Maybe one day he would draw something so amazing that his mama would be proud of him too._

_“We’ll show Uncle Gadreel and Uncle Balthazar tomorrow when we visit, yeah?” Castiel hummed and Samandriel nodded eagerly. He loved his uncles almost as much as he loved his papa. They were always so happy to see him and Uncle Gadreel fed him sweets when his papa wasn’t watching and Uncle Balthazar told the best stories ever; better even than Papa’s! He liked staying over at theirs when his papa was working – it was like having another home._

_For some reason, his mama didn’t want him staying in the house when his papa wasn’t there; that was why he stayed at his uncles’ so often._

_“I’m hungry,” he said suddenly, because he realised that he was._

_His papa smiled down at him. “What would you like, then?”_

_*             *             *_

_“I can’t do this anymore.”_

_Samandriel winced at his mama’s tone. His parents’ bedroom door was closed but he lingered outside it anyway. His mama had been angrier than usual this past month and he had been yelled at a lot. His papa didn’t like it when his mama yelled at him and he had yelled at her and Samandriel just wished they would be nice to each other and smell happy for once._

_He was three and a half now and he had been going to nursery for a little while. The other fledglings were alright, although some of them made fun of him and called him mean names, which upset his papa. He once heard his papa talking to his teacher about it, but she had called him ‘over-emotional’ and asked if he was on his… heat? Samandriel wasn’t sure what that was but it had made his papa angry and they had left shortly after._

_He wondered if his mama was upset about the teacher as well, but he doubted it. She was usually just upset about him. His mama was happiest when he wasn’t there, so he tried to be as quiet as possible around her and stay out of her way, because he liked it when she was happy._

_He told his papa as much last week and his papa’s eyes had watered for some reason. He vowed not to say anything like that again because he didn’t want his papa to cry. His papa deserved to be happy._

_“You need to leave,” his mama said quietly._

_“…You said you wanted to talk to me.” His papa sounded annoyed._

_“I do,” huffed his mama, voice muffled by the door. “And I’m telling you that you need to leave.”_

_“…Leave where?” asked his papa, sounding confused. “For how long?"_

_“…Forever,” mumbled his mama. “I don’t care where. I don’t want you here anymore. I can’t live like this any longer.”_

_There was a long silence and Samandriel furrowed his brow in confusion. Why did mama want his papa to leave?_

_“Hannah,” whispered his papa, heartbroken. “Please don’t do this. Let’s talk about this. We haven’t talked properly in months. We can… we can figure this out-”_

_“I don’t love you anymore, Castiel. Haven’t for a long time now.”_

_Samandriel frowned. Had his mama ever loved his papa? Not like his papa loved him anyway._

_“…Hannah…” His papa sounded so lost, so upset. Samandriel wished he could hug his papa and make him smile, but he knew something important was happening and he wasn't supposed to interfere._

_“This is my house,” his mama continued as though his papa hadn’t spoken. “I want you and the child out of it.”_

_“I help pay the bills, I cook, I clean, I do as much around this house as you do,” protested his papa quietly. “I helped pay the mortgage and I do it all whilst buying Samandriel food and clothes and toys and everything you refuse to get involved with. This house is as much mine as it is yours.”_

_“My name is on the deed,” his mama said firmly. “I’ve allowed you to live here because you didn’t want to raise a baby back at your apartment in Epsilon. Well, Samandriel’s older now. You can go somewhere else and find him a school.”_

_His papa was quiet for a long time and Samandriel heard one of his parents (his mama?) shuffling around the bedroom._

_“You can’t be serious,” said his papa eventually. “i don't have the funds to just go and buy a new place. I might be able to scrape enough together to buy an apartment in Epsilon, but it has the highest crime rates in the entirety of The Silver City. The highest_ murder _rate; three per week. It’s no place for a fledgling. There are drug lords and gangs everywhere and it has been used multiple times as a meeting place for demons. I can’t send Samandriel to school there.”_

 _“Well, you can’t stay here!” his mama shouted and Samandriel flinched at her tone. He hated it when his mama started yelling. “I can’t keep living with that… that abomination! It’s ruining my life! I can hear what the neighbours say about me – can hear how horrible they think I am for going to work whilst having a fledgling in the house. I can hear what they say about us both being omegas with a fledgling. I can see the way Uriel and Anna and Gadreel and Balthazar look at me, the judgement and disgust in their eyes when I say I never wanted a baby. I hate it! That thing has ruined my life! I can’t even walk around my own house without seeing Samandriel’s crap everywhere! I’m not happy in my own house! Every time I see that…_ thing, _I’m reminded that my life will never go back to the way it was; that I’ve lost the respect of my co-workers, that my neighbours don’t want anything to do with me… I wish it had never been born!”_

_Samandriel didn’t realise he was crying until he tasted salt. He swiped at his eyes roughly and tucked his wings to his back. He knew his mama was talking about him. He knew he made her unhappy because when she drank from her tall bottles in the evenings when his papa was in another room, she would tell him how different her life was before him – how much better it was. It was the only time she truly spoke to him without telling him off and her voice had always been slurred then, but hearing her shout those things at his papa like that… he realised he must have been a pretty awful fledgling to make her feel so miserable. The problem was that he didn’t know how to make her happy. Maybe if he just went away, if she never had to see him again… would she stop shouting at his papa?_

_“I want you out by the end of the week,” his mama said firmly, a lot closer to the door than Samandriel had anticipated and when it swung open to reveal his mother’s red, tear-stained face and thick scowl, he scrambled backwards, attempting to hide his own tears._

_She startled and glanced down at him and he stared up at her hopefully despite everything he had just heard. Maybe this time his mama would crouch down and pet his hair like his papa did and tell him to stop crying; that everything would be okay. Maybe she would finally give him a hug. Just one hug._

_She narrowed her eyes angrily at him and stepped over him, making her way into the bathroom, where she slammed the door and began to sob._

_Samandriel’s eyes welled up with tears again. Why did his mama hate him so much?_

_“Samandriel?”_

_He looked up to his papa and noticed his red eyes and exhausted features. He swiped his own tears away once more, determined to show his papa that he could be strong._

_His papa’s face fell and he scooped Samandriel into his arms and held him close, scenting his neck and stroking his wings soothingly._

_"Sshh, it’s okay,” whispered Castiel. “We’ll be okay. Everything’ll be fine.”_

_Samandriel buried his face into his papa’s shoulder and cried._

*             *             *

 

Digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, Dean sighed. Bringing the case file home had offered no inspiration like he had hoped it would have. The angel that had been kidnapped was a young-ish omega by the name of Tessa. Dark hair, violet wings, pretty face, late twenties. Another victim of the Red Devils' latest round of kidnappings.

Where did they take the omegas they harvested? How many people were involved in the operation? How were they distributed? Why couldn’t the KPD catch any of these guys?

Ketch had revealed exactly nothing and Dean wasn’t so convinced that it was out of stubbornness. He was pretty sure that Ketch genuinely didn’t know where the majority of omegas came from or went to, just that he was in charge of his two and the rest of the village was in charge of theirs. Castiel had come straight from the hostel so he couldn’t be questioned either.

How did these people decide who got adopted and who got kidnapped? Was it randomised to throw the police off? Was there a holding centre where some omegas had to pass through to be distributed across the state or were they all transported individually so as to not raise any suspicion?

Dean pulled a face and glanced at the clock. _One a.m._ He should really put the file away and go to bed, but there were omegas in need of help out there, who might not even have the luxury of a bed to sleep in. He shuddered at the thought of what those poor souls were going through. He flicked through the file desperately, determined to find a hint of some sort – anything that would move the case along.

He startled when he realised someone was standing behind him and nearly threw the file at the intruder. Then he realised Castiel was reading over his shoulder.

“Cas,” he yelped, clutching his chest. “Don’t do that!”

The angel frowned at him in confusion before rounding the couch and sitting beside him. He scanned through the page as Dean gathered his wits together.

“Not sure you’re allowed to read this,” he mumbled but Castiel ignored him and removed the file from Dean’s lap to flick through it.

He began to read the pages more carefully when he realised it was another omega kidnapping case and Dean twiddled his thumbs for a minute or so before peering over Castiel’s shoulder.

“Omega angel was seen entering a parking lot around the back of a store but never actually drove away. Witness states they saw a van hurtling around the corner, near where the parking lot entrance was and that it drove away only a few minutes after Tessa disappeared behind the store. We’re assuming Red Devil. Thing is, we have no idea where they’ve taken her.”

Castiel tilted his head and contemplated the information for a moment before grabbing his notepad off the coffee table. He began to scratch away at the pad, pausing every so often as his eyes fixed on the wall in contemplation, then he would scribble hastily again, ignoring Dean as he peered curiously over his shoulder. Finally, he presented Dean with his notes.

              

_Are the locations of these kidnappings clustered in certain towns or villages? Maybe specific areas of the city? This would certainly give a hint as to where the omegas are being distributed._

_Also, have you tried searching the internet for ‘omega services’ or something of the sort? If these omegas are all being used for the same function as I was, maybe there is a website or at the very least contact details for arranging a meeting?_

_Have you found a link between the kidnappings yet? Other than the fact that they’re all omegas and non-human?_

_Is there anything I could help with?_

Dean arched an eyebrow and flicked his gaze to Castiel. The angel looked warm and comfortable in his black, spotted pyjamas; wings relaxed behind him and head tilted at Dean curiously. There was a quiet confidence in the way he had positioned himself; half-facing Dean, one hand splayed on the couch between them, and knee brushing Dean’s. The alpha was quickly growing accustomed to this side of Castiel – the part of him that had probably been most prominent before he had suffered the misfortune of falling into Ketch’s hands. Dean liked watching Castiel hold his head a little higher.

“They’re not compact enough to be called clusters,” said Dean, scanning over Castiel’s questions again. “More like random dots all over the state, probably the whole country. And we’ve searched for contact details and websites for weeks without any luck. Seems like if you want to meet these guys, you have to be in the know.” Dean shook his head apologetically. “And still nada on a link. We’ve got entire teams on this and the FBI’s been trying their hand, but no one’s come up with anything new in months.”

Castiel frowned and glanced down at the case file. He hesitated then grabbed his pad and slowly, almost nervously, began to write.

 

_Maybe to find them, you have to act like one of them. You need bait – an omega to offer them in order to find out where their HQ is. These people never get caught, which means they have eyes everywhere to keep guard. If you steal an omega, they’re going to know about it. Make it messy, clumsy even. It will increase the likelihood that they’ll notice._

Dean licked his lips, skin prickling at the thought. Kidnap an innocent omega? How barbaric.

“I can’t just steal some poor schmuck off the streets, Cas. Besides, even if I did, they’re not gonna take me to a distribution centre. We already suspect that these guys never allow their employees to mix with other branches of the business. Catchers can’t mix with transporters or owners or whatever. They have to stick to their own jobs.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and wrote a new message.

 

_Dean. I would be the omega you ‘kidnapped’. I’ve been with these people before, remember? I know how to act scared and submissive and everything that would convince these sorts of people that I was perfect for the system. I could find one of the distribution centres, work out who the higher ups are, then you could burst in there with the rest of the KPD and shut it down. You’ll have the information you need to help find who’s in charge of the whole operation. All you would have to do is place a tracker on me._

As he finished the paragraph, Dean’s scent began to ripen in distress and he shook his head rapidly.

“Absolutely not,” he stated. “There’s no way I’m sending you back in there. What if something went wrong? What if you were thrown back into the system and we couldn’t find you? What if you had to go through the past few years all over again? I’m supposed to keep you safe. It’s my job to protect you and take care of you and Samandriel, and there’s no way I’m going to pretend to be one of the guys who hurt you in the first place and I’m not going to break this trust between us just because-”

Castiel interrupted his babbling by wrapping Dean in his wings and shoving his head under the alpha’s chin. He rubbed his head over Dean’s chest and ran his hands over his arms and sides before shuffling closer and tucking Dean’s head under his chin. He ran his hand through Dean’s hair and slid his other under the alpha’s shirt to smooth over his back, and then he nuzzled into Dean’s neck and scented at him deeply.

Dean melted into the claim and allowed Castiel to rub his scent over him. The angel leaned their heads together for a few moments before slowly scooping up his notepad.

 

_I trust you, Dean. I promise I can protect myself and I wouldn’t offer myself if I didn’t trust you to be there when I need you. I know you’re nothing like Ketch or any of those people who abuse omegas. You are the one alpha I would trust my life with. You are my best friend. You are my alpha, Dean. I could never lose my faith in you._

Dean’s eyes widened and his mouth flopped open for a moment before he growled deep and pleased in his chest. Castiel didn’t even flinch, merely stared back at Dean calmly, and the alpha gathered him into his arms and returned the scent marking. It was completely inappropriate for the sort of relationship they shared, but Castiel seemed content to allow Dean to manhandle him and soon, the omega was snuggled into Dean’s chest, eyes closed and smiling as Dean purred and petted his wings.

“I can’t let you do this, Cas,” Dean murmured. “I can’t let them hurt you again. The thought of them even laying a finger on you…” Dean growled softly and ran his hands down Castiel’s arms. He wished the omega would roll his sleeves up so that he could transfer his scent onto his skin, but Dean supposed he could manage with Castiel’s pyjamas smelling like him instead.

Castiel placed a gentle hand on his chest and Dean sighed in dismay.

“You’ve just got out. Why would you want them shoving you around again?”

Castiel scribbled out a quick message.

 

_Because all of those abused omegas deserve the same freedom that you have granted me._

Dean held his omega close and pressed his nose into his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of mandarin, sea salt and vanilla. He didn’t want to use Castiel as bait and he hated the idea of his omega being touched or even looked upon by the evil monsters that originally took him. He was supposed to keep Castiel safe, not throw him back into the system and turn him back into the scared, broken creature that had first arrived at the farm. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Castiel was abused and exploited again because of him.

He shook his head and slipped his hands under Castiel’s shirt, smoothing his palms over the damaged skin of the omega’s back. The rough scars and old burns only solidified his resolve to prevent Castiel from getting involved with the case.

His fingertips traced the long, jagged marks carved into Castiel’s back and the angel released a slow breath and manoeuvred himself onto Dean’s lap, knees bracketing the alpha’s hips as he pushed closer and made himself comfortable against Dean’s body. He scented at the alpha’s neck a little desperately as Dean continued to explore his scars and Dean was struck with the overwhelming urge to mark Castiel as his.

He held Castiel tighter and made a point of rubbing his hands and wrists over the bare skin of the omega’s back and he cautiously gave the same treatment to Castiel’s sides, watching for any movement that suggested Castiel was opposed to his inappropriate scent claim.

When he felt Castiel smile against his neck, he grinned and rubbed their cheeks together playfully, enjoying the catch of stubble against stubble. There was a familiar feeling pulling tight against his chest and as Castiel’s warm hands crept under his shirt to return the scent claim, butterflies erupted in his stomach and his pulse raced. He knew this feeling intimately and he should have been terrified by it; should have torn himself away from Castiel and forced himself to stop touching the angel from then onwards.

He wasn’t and he didn’t. Maybe it was selfish of him to keep touching Castiel despite knowing what the feelings meant, but Castiel welcomed his touches and the omega was starved enough of kindness and gentleness as it was – Dean couldn’t deny him of such a basic need.

His gaze flicked up to the angel’s halo and he cocked an eyebrow at the streams of gold and violet flowing above his crown. He still had no clue as to what violet meant but he was pleased by Castiel’s happiness.

He found the bases of Castiel’s wings, where feathers met skin and he massaged them deeply, chuckling at Castiel’s suddenly boneless posture.

They had come so far… he couldn’t watch Castiel break all over again.

“I can’t,” whispered Dean against the omega’s jaw, inhaling his sweet and tangy scent to reassure himself. “I can’t let you go.” He couldn’t lose his omega when Castiel was just learning to trust him. He was selfish and he didn’t care.

Castiel suddenly pulled away to grab his notepad and Dean couldn’t stop the whine the escaped his lips. A grin tugged at the corners of Castiel’s mouth as he began to write, but the expression soon faded to make way for something a little more empathetic.

              

_Just consider it. I know you think I will return to the way I was when we fist met, but things are different now. I have you and your brother and the princes. I have friends; a family even, where before I had no one. This time, Samandriel won’t be trapped in the same position as me and I know he is safe with you. I don’t have to worry about protecting him and unlike before, I know there will be someone waiting to rescue me. Even if something goes wrong, I know you’ll eventually find me – I know you won’t stop until you do._

_I didn’t have hope before, Dean. This is different. I’m choosing to go in and I know that whatever happens in there, when it is over, I will have you to return to._

_Don’t forget that this sort of thing was once my job in Eden. I am no stranger to the sacrifices made in order to protect the public._

Dean’s throat closed up as he read through the message and the familiar feelings in his chest began to burn with fear and heartache. He sometimes forgot that he and Castiel shared a similar profession and the angel had once been an expert in his field. He was so accustomed to seeing the angel surrounded by clucking chickens and ruminating cattle that he forgot Castiel was trained extensively in the art of self-defence.

It didn’t mean that he had to like the suggestion.

“I’ll put it to my boss,” Dean managed quietly. “But know I hate the idea.”

Castiel’s lips quirked in a lop-sided smile and he snuggled back into Dean and rubbed his head under his chin as he continued mapping out the muscles of Dean’s back.

The warm feelings flourished again and Dean closed his eyes and tried not to think about what would happen if Victor agreed to Castiel’s plan.

 

*             *             *

 

Samandriel wasn’t sure what to make of the strange demon.

Ryuk he could deal with. Ryuk was a typical alpha demon; he made fun of betas, started brawls with other alphas, sneered at angels, and passed comments about how an omega’s place was at home cleaning and cooking for their alpha and that they shouldn’t be at school because they were weak and dumb. Ryuk was the type of demon Samandriel had learned about from his father.

Jack wasn’t anything like that. Jack was everything he had been told that demons weren’t. He was friendly and kind and patient and he shared his cookies with Samandriel at lunch time. He had warm eyes and a bright smile and he was always happy to see Samandriel even when Samandriel was wary of him. He complimented all of Samandriel’s art and he told him that he liked his wings and that his halo was very pretty and honestly, Samandriel didn’t know what to do with him.

He watched Jack work through his mathematics problems and found himself impressed at the speed at which he arrived at the answer. Samandriel was only half way through the first page and Jack was already on the second. He hadn’t realised demons could be so smart.

“Hey, you okay? Do you need help?” Jack asked, staring at him with huge, round eyes and a lop-sided smile.

Samandriel shook his head and was about to respond when Ryuk scoffed opposite him.

**_“Of course he needs help. He’s an omega. Even worse he’s an omega angel. I bet he can’t even spell his own name.”_ **

Samandriel scowled. **_“I can spell my name in Enochian and English. Why don’t you just shut up?”_**

Ryuk growled and it would have been intimidating had Samandriel not faced far worse at Ketch’s.

 ** _“You should show your betters some respect, omega. I’m stronger than you and I’ll make you cry if you keep being rude to me,”_** Ryuk huffed haughtily in Enochian.

Samandriel narrowed his eyes and considered punching the alpha in the mouth.

“Hey, that’s mean,” stated Jack, looking genuinely angry. “You shouldn’t say stuff like that to people. Especially to Samandriel. Samandriel is good and kind and he makes people happy. He’s an awesome friend.”

There were a few nods of agreement from the surrounding human children and Samandriel blinked in surprise. He hadn’t realised that Jack thought so highly of him. A smile pulled at his lips.

Ryuk snorted. “He’s stupid. All omegas are. And angels are ugly and arrogant. People just say they want to be his friend because they feel sorry for him. He’s a weird loser and I heard his dad’s a freak as well – apparently, he doesn’t talk at all.” Ryuk smirked. “Maybe he just doesn’t speak to Samandriel because he’s such a dumb failure at everything.”

Samandriel began to calculate which point would hurt most if he threw his fist at it: face or stomach?

“Maybe you’re just jealous because Samandriel is the most popular kid in school and you’re an idiot with no friends,” huffed Jack. “Or maybe it’s because you know Samandriel’s way smarter and stronger and just better than you at everything, and everyone wants to be his friend because he’s nice to everyone and he’s so much cooler than you.”

Ryuk scowled for a moment as Jack’s words sunk in and Samandriel stared at the beta with wide, stunned eyes as the humans around them murmured their agreement.

Suddenly, Ryuk leapt across the table and shoved Jack out of his chair before pinning him to the ground. Jack yelped as Ryuk flared his wings intimidatingly and straddled the beta. He swung his fist at Jack’s eye and the beta cried out in agony and threw his hands over his face, but Ryuk kneed his stomach instead and Jack whimpered against the flare of pain.

Ms. Taylor turned around at the commotion but she was on the other side of the room and Jack needed help _now._

As Ryuk bared his teeth and drew back for another punch, Samandriel lunged at him and slammed his wing into the side of his head before following through with a hard kick to the stomach.

Ryuk yelped as he fell to the floor and when he hastily scrambled to his feet, he swiped blindly at Samandriel, managing to claw his cheek. Gritting his teeth, Samandriel punched him in the eye in revenge for Jack’s injury before swinging his foot into his crotch. The alpha flung his arms in front of his burning lower half and began to cry and Samandriel would have kicked his legs out from under him and possibly thought about breaking his wing had Ms. Taylor not grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the cowering demon.

“Stay away from Jack,” growled Samandriel fiercely before Ms. Taylor carted him to the Principal’s office for the second time in as many weeks.

 

*             *             *

 

Samandriel scowled at his own dangling feet as he waited to be called back in to the principal’s office, where Dean and his father were having yet another discussion about Samandriel’s behaviour in class. At least Ryuk was in the same position a few doors down, in the vice-principal’s office.

The corridor was empty since class was in session, so Samandriel was forced to sulk alone whilst he waited for his sentence.

“Samandriel?”

Or maybe not.

He glanced down the corridor to find Jack grinning at him and as the demon approached, Samandriel found himself perking up a little. Jack took the rough, plastic seat beside him and kicked his legs idly since they didn’t quite reach the floor.

 ** _“Shouldn’t you be in class?”_** Samandriel asked, frowning at Jack’s blackened eye and clenching his fists at the idea that Ryuk had hurt his new friend.

The demon shrugged. **_“Probably, but Ms. Taylor thinks I’m in a bunch of pain and crying about it in the bathroom, so I thought I’d come see how you are while she’s ‘giving me time’.”_** He winked at Samandriel and the young angel grinned at the beta’s little act of rebellion.

 ** _“I’m okay,”_** hummed Samandriel. **_“Although I think Principal Bevell is going to send me home for the rest of the afternoon so I can ‘cool off’.”_** He hunched in on himself a little. **_“I don’t think Dean’s too happy with me.”_**

Jack cocked his head to one side curiously. **_“Dean?”_**

 ** _“He’s my…”_** Samandriel hesitated. **_“He’s the human that adopted us. Sort of. But… I dunno, he’s kinda like my dad to be honest. Treats me like his own fledgling.”_**

Jack smiled. **_“He sounds nice.”_**

Samandriel nodded and glanced down at his feet. **_“He is. He’s so cool. I… I’d be proud to have a dad like him. It’d be nice to have two parents who actually want me, y’know?”_**

His eyes widened and he realised he had let too much slip but when he glanced at Jack, the demon was staring sadly at his hands.

 ** _“Yeah,”_** he whispered. **_“I wish I had that too.”_**

Samandriel paused and tilted his head at his unlikely friend but then the demon turned to him with a frown.

**_“Does your cheek hurt? It’s been bleeding.”_ **

Samandriel brushed the tips of his fingers against his cheek and drew his hand back only to watch tiny droplets of red glisten up at him. He raised his eyebrows at the fresh blood and realised why his cheek had been stinging for the past hour or so.

 ** _“A little,”_** Samandriel admitted. **_“We have healing cream at home.”_**

Jack glanced up and down the corridor carefully and once he was certain that it was empty, he lifted a hand.

 ** _“You want me to get rid of it?”_** Jack asked quietly, almost nervously.

Samandriel eyed his hand. Despite Jack’s kind words about him, he couldn’t quite banish the idea that all demons were evil and cruel. He had never met a nice demon before and neither had his father, so it wasn’t too unbelievable that Jack could suddenly turn on him and try to kill him or torture him or even kidnap him.

 ** _“I can heal you, if you’ll let me,”_** mumbled Jack, looking even warier than before.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Samandriel didn’t recoil when Jack leaned forwards and laid a hand on his cheek. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but Jack’s palm was warm and tender against his torn skin and suddenly, a silky sort of energy coursed through Samandriel’s cheek. It tingled a little and his damaged skin began to heat up but then Jack drew his hand back and Samandriel’s pain vanished.

He brushed his own fingers over his cheek and found the area smooth and unblemished. He stared at Jack with wide eyes.

**_“You can heal.”_ **

Jack nodded slowly, uncomfortably and he dropped his gaze, wings pinned to his back in what appeared to be fear.

 ** _“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”_** he asked quietly and Samandriel blinked before shaking his head rapidly. He understood the need to keep certain abilities a secret – take his father, for example. People had found out what he could do and they had then had to flee The Silver City.

If anyone found out that Jack could heal any type of wound, the demon would never have a moment of peace again.

 ** _“I promise I won’t tell anybody,”_** said Samandriel sincerely and Jack glanced up at him hopefully.

Samandriel rubbed a hand over his cheek. **_“Thanks,”_** he grinned and the demon brightened and shuffled a little closer to him.

**_“Thanks for punching Ryuk for me. No one has ever defended me like that before.”_ **

Samandriel frowned and shrugged a shoulder. **_“Ryuk’s a jerk. He shouldn’t have hit you… Are you okay?”_**

Jack scrunched his nose up. **_“Eye hurts but I can heal it a little when I get home. If I do it now, the teachers might start to suspect that I can… y’know.”_** He smiled weakly at Samandriel and the angel’s face fell. It sucked that Jack couldn’t even heal himself for fear of being found out by the school. At least Samandriel was going home and his miraculous recovery wouldn’t be noticed by anyone.

“Samandriel,” intoned Principal Bevell and Samandriel winced as he caught sight of Dean’s disappointed frown.

 ** _“Good luck,”_** whispered Jack and Samandriel squeezed his arm in gratitude, making the young demon grin at him before he scampered off down the hall.

When Samandriel made his way into the principal’s office, she frowned at his cheek for a moment. She could have sworn he had been injured when she spoke to him earlier… Maybe she had spent too long in this office.

“This is the second time you’ve been caught fighting with a demon,” said Principal Bevell sternly as she made her way to her desk, opposite where his dad and Dean were sitting. “Now, Samandriel, you know that I don’t tolerate xenophobia in my school.”

Samandriel brows furrowed in confusion at the long words and his father held out a hand for him to take. Samandriel did and as his father mentally translated the complicated phrase, Samandriel’s eyes widened and he snapped his gaze up to the principal.

“I’m not xen- xena- xeno-” He scowled and shook his head. “Ryuk was hurting Jack.”

“Jack,” said Principal Bevell slowly. “The same Jack you struck last week?”

Samandriel frowned briefly before nodding. “Ryuk hit Jack and he couldn’t fight back so I got Ryuk away from him.”

“By punching his face and kicking his crotch?” Bevell clarified.

Samandriel shrugged. “He deserved it for punching Jack.”

The corners of the principal’s mouth turned downwards and she glanced pointedly at Dean and Castiel. Castiel slid his hand from his son’s grip and the young angel turned to him with a grimace.

“You can’t go around hitting demons just because you feel like it,” scowled Dean.

“I didn’t,” protested Samandriel. “Jack’s my friend. I was defending him against a bully. You said we should defend our friends against bullies.”

Dean snapped his mouth shut and Castiel’s eyebrows drew together. Samandriel knew that his father wasn’t happy about him being friends with a demon.

But Jack was nice, right? Jack had healed him and complimented him and defended him against Ryuk’s harsh words. Surely, he was allowed to be friends with Jack?

“Not by punching them,” sighed Dean eventually. “You’re smarter than that, kid. Use your words, not your fists.”

“Why can’t I use both?” Samandriel frowned. “Ryuk was using his.”

“Because it’s wrong to hit people,” said Dean patiently. “You can get into a lot of trouble for it. You could have seriously hurt Ryuk and how do you think his parents would have felt if he had to go to hospital? How do you think Cas and I would feel if it was you that got hurt and you had to go to hospital? What if you had broken his nose or blinded him or caused some sort of brain damage? Would you be okay with hurting someone like that?”

Samandriel screwed up his face. Honestly, he couldn’t see what the big deal was. Ryuk was mean and cruel and he had no problem with hurting people. Samandriel would be one-hundred-percent alright with hurting that alpha. Dean seemed to realised that Samandriel didn’t understand what he had done wrong, for he sighed and leaned forwards in his chair.

**_“What if you had taken away Ryuk’s voice forever? Like what Ketch did to your dad? Would you be okay inflicting that sort of pain onto Ryuk?”_ **

Suddenly, Samandriel understood.

He shook his head rapidly, paling a little as his eyes blew wide. He most certainly didn’t want to injure anyone like how his dad had been injured. He would never forget the day his dad’s voice was taken away…

Dean nodded stiffly and Castiel stared at the floor bitterly.

“He’s sorry,” muttered Dean as he returned his attention to the principal. His gaze flicked briefly to Castiel before focusing on Principal Bevell. “Is there anything else we need to address or is that everything?”

Principal Bevell shook her head and Dean gave a terse nod before standing. Samandriel took that as his cue to keep his head low and follow the alpha out without protest. Dean didn’t smell too happy and Samandriel would bet his left leg that he was going to get an earful tonight.

It was worth it to save Jack, though.

 

*             *             *

 

The next evening, Dean stumbled into the house long past midnight, dark circles under his eyes and a migraine throbbing in his skull. He grimaced as he shut the door and pressed his head against its cool surface, trying to soothe the pain in both his temple and his chest.

He eventually turned to find Castiel staring at him with wide, worried eyes, book dangling from his grip as he hovered uncertainly by the couch he had just leapt up from.

Within a few short seconds, Dean had crossed the floor and taken the angel into his arms. He pushed his nose deep into Castiel’s neck and clutched at the bases of his wings, attempting to reassure himself that Castiel was safe.

“Don’t go,” Dean begged softly.

Castiel blinked in surprise and snaked his arms around the alpha and Dean could tell by his scent that he was concerned. He dreaded to think what he himself smelled like.

“Vic agreed to the plan.” His heart ached as he said the words and he held Castiel tighter, afraid he would disappear if he let go.

Castiel pulled back slightly and stared at Dean, a sort of excitement shining in his eyes. It hit Dean that Castiel missed his old job. Farm work was tough labour and the omega obviously enjoyed being around the animals, but Castiel was no house omega and from what Dean had been told over hundreds and hundreds of note pages, Castiel adored his old job working for a special service that helped to eliminate terrorist threats and he was good at it. He craved excitement and had always wanted to do something meaningful to society despite all the restrictions to omegas back on The Silver City.

Castiel had been something of a rebel on his own planet and a determined one at that. It wasn’t fair of Dean to keep him tied up in bubble-wrap forever. Castiel wasn’t a damsel in distress and he had been fighting against alphas telling him what to do since he was a child. He needed to have faith in Castiel, even if that meant subjecting him to the horrors of an operation that had once broken him.

Dean wanted to be sick. He had no right to hold his angel back but the feelings he had for Castiel were clouding his thoughts. He wasn’t stupid and despite what his brother and friends thought of him, he wasn’t the type of person to deny an attraction to someone he had never believed he would be interested in.

Castiel was male, sure, but Dean wasn’t about to make a big fuss of it or have a panicked meltdown or whatever. The thing he couldn’t get past however, was the abuse alphas like him had inflicted on Castiel in the past. He wouldn’t put Castiel in a situation that would make him uncomfortable and if that meant he had to suffer a few fuzzy feelings and an unrequited attraction, then so be it. Castiel’s friendship was enough.

“He says we’ll start ironing out plans and picking teams over the next month or so. He was impressed by your long list of achievements back on Heaven.” Dean huffed out a hollow laugh as he clutched Castiel tighter. “I guess I sold you to him.”

Castiel began stroking his hair and Dean closed his eyes as he buried his face into his omega’s neck once more. His heart was in agony. There was a _thud_ as Castiel allowed the book to fall from his grip in order to hold Dean more securely.

“Guess you’re gonna have to start coming to work with me,” Dean murmured and the idea should have thrilled him, but it only made him more upset. “Please don’t do this,” he whispered, a single betraying tear creeping down his cheek and soaking into Castiel’s neck.

There was a pause and Dean missed how Castiel’s halo faded to silver.

The angel shifted slightly and then Dean’s eyes flew open as lips pressed against his cheek, where his tear had formed a faint silvery track.

He froze, shocked, and more kisses were peppered over his cheek and jaw, light but soothing.

Dean’s pulse doubled, chest under enough pressure to burst. The room felt unbearably warm.

Castiel kissed the corner of his mouth and Dean cracked.

He cupped the omega’s cheek and returned the frenzied kisses. He brushed his lips over Castiel’s cheeks and jaw and nose and temple, and Castiel slumped in relief and pressed closer, halo shining more golden with every kiss he received.

Dean felt himself beginning to smile and he pulled the angel closer, grinning when Castiel staggered a little and knocked their noses together. He trailed kisses over Castiel’s neck and the parts of his shoulder that weren’t covered by shirt, and he pulled away a little to glance at Castiel’s expression. The corners of the angel’s eyes crinkled in delight and his smile was wide and sincere and all the air in Dean was punched out of him. Castiel was truly enjoying this. He wanted this.

Dean swallowed before latching onto Castiel’s neck once more and covering it with more kisses. He worked his way up to the spot beneath Castiel’s ear and grinned when raven wings fluttered with happiness.

Finally, Castiel tilted Dean’s chin towards him and sealed their lips together. It was soft and tender and innocent and held so much meaning that Dean wasn’t sure his knees were going to hold him up.

They parted briefly but then Castiel chased Dean’s lips and they shared another kiss, this one longer and a little harder than the last, but no less intense. They stole a third and then a fourth kiss and before Dean knew it, his hand was fisted in Castiel’s hair as the angel licked at his lips and took advantage of the way they parted.

He claimed Dean’s mouth thoroughly, mapping out every inch with long, wet slides of his tongue and Dean welcomed the intrusion, rumbling deep in his chest when Castiel’s wings swung around them both possessively.

When they drew apart for air, Castiel’s halo was slowly edging towards becoming entirely violet and as Dean caught sight of the angel’s blown pupils, he was pretty sure that he had the colour figured out.

He mouthed at Castiel’s jaw, enjoying the scratchy texture of stubble against his lips, and he mouthed down the omega’s neck and slid his collar to one side in order to apply wet, messy kisses to the scars engraved into his shoulder.

Castiel’s breath hitched a little and he squeezed Dean in encouragement, so the alpha unlaced the ties around his wings and slid the omega’s shirt over his head and onto the floor.

Castiel hunched in on himself a little as his canvas of burns and scars was revealed, so Dean set to work on lavishing each one of them with wet kisses and tender kisses and short kisses and drawn-out kisses and a hundred other types of kisses, until Castiel was shaking under the attention.

He crouched to smooth his tongue over Castiel’s marked belly, nuzzling the trail of hairs there before mouthing hot, wet kisses over every burn and when he moved onto the scars, he flicked his gaze up to Castiel’s face, staring into sapphire eyes brimming with awe.

Castiel’s wings were trembling and Dean spun the angel around and began working on his back. He wrapped his arms around the angel’s front and seared kisses into the nape of his neck and then his shoulders and then he pressed his lips to every nobble in his spine and lapped cheekily at the dip of his waist.

Castiel’s breaths shook as Dean paid every mark on his back exactly the same attention as the ones on his front and before he could finish kissing the last few scars, Castiel whirled around and claimed his mouth. He clutched at Dean’s shirt and then grasped his shoulders desperately, so Dean kissed back just as heatedly, nipping his lips when they had to pull back for air.

Their kisses began to soften and when they parted to gaze at one another, Castiel’s face was stained with tears, yet a smile played about his lips.

Dean pulled him close and brushed his tears away with a gentle thumb.

“Well,” he grinned. “That was nice.”

Castiel’s face broke into a gummy smile and Dean laughed and kissed him again.

Once they parted, Castiel tucked his head under Dean’s chin with a happy sigh and Dean rumbled in response, knowing that the vibrations amused his omega. He rested his chin on Castiel’s head.

“I guess I have to let you go on this mission now then, huh?”

Castiel nodded and squeezed Dean lightly. Dean sighed unhappily and nuzzled his omega’s head. He was quiet for a few minutes before eying the angel curiously.

“How long have you felt like that, Cas?”

Castiel graced his chest with a single kiss before reaching for his pad. Dean stubbornly held onto him and Castiel shot him an amused look until Dean slackened his grip a little. Castiel broke free of his arms and snatched up his pen and pad before immediately returning to Dean’s arms.

 

_A little while. I wasn’t certain my feelings would be accepted, never mind returned. I’m not exactly a prize omega and I assumed you were ignoring my hints._

Dean’s brows furrowed. “Okay, one: shut up, Cas you’re a freakin’ diamond. Two: what hints?”

The angel cocked an eyebrow at him and when Dean still looked stumped, his eyes widened a fraction and he grinned.

 

_My stand-off with Zephon? I thought that was pretty obvious. And claiming you at the wedding? Sitting in your lap earlier this week? Dean, I couldn’t have made it more obvious if I’d tried!_

Dean thought back to all those times and other times besides – when he had woken up to Castiel gazing at him, all those shy smiles and admiring glances…

Oh, crap, he really was oblivious. Wait.

“Your stand-off with Zephon? What do you mean? Were you two fighting over me or something?”

Castiel’s eyes sparkled with laughter and Dean prodded a wing childishly to make him stop, which only succeeded in making him smile more as he scribbled out a response.

              

_In case you haven’t noticed, Zephon has a fat crush on you and has been trying to wrangle you into a date for a fair few weeks now. At his house. Under the guise of private signing lessons._

Dean frowned. “What? No, I’m just really bad at signing. He wants to give me private tuition because I’m not as good as the others in our class.”

Castiel looked to be enjoying Dean’s responses.

 

_Your signing is fine, Dean. The only private tuition he wants to give you is on knot-sucking and he’s quite happy to demonstrate as many times as you want._

Dean spluttered. “Cas!” He thought about Zephon’s offer of private tuition… at a restaurant. And how he hadn’t wanted Castiel and Samandriel accompanying them. And how hands-on he had been with only Dean’s teaching these past few lessons. Wow. He was such an idiot.

He looked up to find Castiel’s face creased in silent laughter and he pressed their lips together to stop him.

“Oh, shut it. That means you were jealous of the possibility of me being alone with him,” huffed Dean. “You were peacocking over me. Full-on staking a claim on me in front of our teacher.”

Castiel was smirking and he presented Dean with another note.

 

_Damn right._

Dean stared at the note for a moment and when he returned his attention to Castiel, the angel flared his wings in the single most possessive and beautiful display Dean had ever witnessed. Every feather shone under the lights, glinting purples and blues and reds and greens and they stood on end, appearing a lot larger and thicker than they actually were. Dean’s breath caught in his throat. They were a far cry from how they had looked when he had first met Castiel. They were absolutely stunning.

Dean swore at the thrill sweeping through his body and he mouthed at Castiel’s neck submissively. No one had ever staked a claim on him before. Usually he was the one doing the claiming, but this was an exciting turn of events, even if no one else was there to see it.

“You’re the only one I want,” he promised. “I didn’t even notice Zephon, but you… I can’t get my mind off you, Cas. I’ve been crushing on you for quite some time.”

Castiel’s gaze softened and he wrapped Dean in a blanket of feathers before cupping his cheek and pressing their lips together. Dean melted into the kiss and the feelings in his chest finally overflowed, setting off a thousand butterflies in his stomach.

He realised that he was happy. Castiel was utterly his.

They didn’t speak much after that even though there was still so much to discuss. They shared tender kisses in the middle of the lounge and when their legs couldn’t hold them up any longer, Dean led Castiel into his bedroom and they slept in one another’s arms, safe and content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!


	20. Innocence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at bottom

_A gunshot cracked through the air and a beast snarled and roared as someone screamed in fear. Their screams fell eerily silent and the wet sound of a body being ravaged by an animal broke the quiet. There was a sharp whistle and the sound of the beast’s padding footstep followed as it returned to its master._

_Castiel shuddered and curled around his son, blanketing him in his wings. Samandriel whimpered softly and clutched at his father’s pyjamas, burying his head in his chest._

_“I don’t like it here,” whispered Samandriel._

_Castiel glanced around the damp and mouldy apartment. The floorboards creaked when stepped on and most of the doors wouldn’t quite close properly. The plaster was peeling from the walls, exposing the crumbling bricks behind and all the windows were cracked and chipped from youths throwing stones at them. The oven leaked gas when used and the fridge sometimes decided to turn itself off along with the faulty electrics. Even the water seemed cloudier than what was safe and Castiel chose to boil it before he drank it._

_Samandriel didn’t even like the school he had to be enrolled into. Epsilon had the poorest education system of all the zones in Eden. Samandriel’s teachers were disinterested in their jobs and chose to interfere with the students as little as possible. So far, Samandriel had been called stupid by his teachers, bullied by betas, and beaten up by alphas. Castiel had confronted the school when Samandriel had come home with blood dripping down his wings and face, but the school had taken one look at his designation and scoffed him out of the building. Castiel had tried to change Samandriel’s school, but his request for a school in another zone had been denied and the other three schools in the zone had proved even rougher. He would have home-schooled his son but working a job didn’t allow for that, so instead, he started teaching Samandriel how to defend himself against attackers._

_There was a strange chittering sound and Castiel glanced over his shoulder and watched something the size of his foot with black fur and sharp teeth scurry under his wardrobe._

_“Neither do I,” Castiel murmured, kissing his son’s head._

_“It’s been twelve weeks. When can we go back home?” Samandriel asked._

_Castiel’s face fell and he held his fledgling tighter._

_“Your mama doesn’t want to see us anymore.”_

_Samandriel shrunk in on himself. “Because of me?”_

_Castiel carded his fingers through his fledgling’s wings. He refused to lie to his son. “You know I love you, don’t you? No matter what your mama says.”_

_Samandriel nodded and snuggled into his father. “I love you too, Papa.”_

_Another gunshot._

_Castiel flinched and ensured his fledgling was entirely covered by his wing. “How about tomorrow we go visit Uncle Balthazar and Uncle Gadreel?”_

_Samandriel’s face lit up and he nodded eagerly. Castiel smiled and ruffled his hair gently. After a little while, Samandriel’s expression faded._

_“You won’t ever leave me, will you, Papa?”_

_Castiel’s heart ached. “No,” he promised, kissing his son’s head. “No, I’ll always be right here with you.”_

_“And Uncle Balthazar and Uncle Gadreel?” Samandriel asked tentatively. “Will they always be here too?”_

_Castiel smiled. “Always. They love you very much.”_

_Pleased, Samandriel closed his eyes and buried a small hand in Castiel’s wing. “Night, Papa.”_

_“Goodnight, Fledgling,” murmured Castiel as he tucked Samandriel into his chest and let his eyes fall shut._

_*             *             *_

_Ever since Hannah had kicked him out, Castiel had noticed the tensions rising within their team. Hannah only spoke to her team when necessary for a mission and whilst it was obvious that Anna and Uriel were disapproving of her actions regarding her son and Castiel, Balthazar and Gadreel were downright livid._

_From years of friendship, Castiel knew that Balthazar was an emotional person who had no problems expressing how he felt. However, it was a shock when Gadreel – one of the most reserved and stoic angels Castiel had ever met – first heard about Hannah booting them out of the house and began snarling curses at her in the middle of the office. She yelled back as he publicly shamed her and if Anna hadn’t forcefully separated them, Castiel was certain that a brawl would have broken out._

_Since then, Balthazar and Gadreel had been overly protective of Samandriel and Castiel. In fact, Castiel considered them as much family as any blood relative. They constantly offered for him to stay in their house and whilst the offer was kind and Castiel wanted nothing more than to stay in a house that didn’t smell of gas and rot, he didn’t want to burden them. He couldn’t take advantage of them._

_The scent marking was nice though, even if it was a little petty. Balthazar had started it. Hannah had shoved past Castiel roughly as they entered the office and coupled with a bad night’s sleep in his dangerous apartment, Castiel had lingered in the bathroom trying to pull himself together. Hannah acted as though the last few years hadn’t been spent slowly falling in love with one another and now treated him like a stranger, or worse; a rival. He didn’t understand how they had fallen apart so quickly, as though their love hadn’t meant anything._

_Balthazar had found him, wings shaking slightly as he hung his head over the sink, halo a deep blue and arms struggling to support him._

_Castiel had admitted his thoughts and Balthazar had held him and comforted him and then he had rubbed his scent all over Castiel in hopes that it would remind the omega throughout the day that he was still loved and wanted by at least one person._

_Their colleagues had been surprised at Castiel’s scent, but a determined spark had entered Gadreel and Balthazar’s eyes when they noticed Hannah’s unhappy scowl._

_The next week, Hannah had berated Castiel for accidentally leaving some of Samandriel’s drawing at her house. She had shoved them at his chest, creasing them all, before storming off. Later, when they entered the office together, Gadreel sat beside Castiel and leafed through the drawings, praising them quietly before rubbing his scent pointedly over Castiel’s hair and face and arms and wings, flicking his gaze up to Hannah with narrowed eyes as he finished up. Hannah’s eyes widened and she quickly looked down and Gadreel gracefully returned to his own desk, ignoring the stunned looks of his colleagues and mate._

_Since then, Gadreel and Balthazar had drowned Castiel in their scent at various points through the weeks, merely to prove to Castiel that they cared about him and to show Hannah that if she dared say or do anything to Castiel, they wouldn't hesitate to tear into her._

_The next mission was extremely dangerous, even by their standards. A large group of terrorists had attacked East Gate; home of the king of Caulk and the four princes. Many civilians had perished when the first bomb had exploded and many of the royal guards had been taken out by the second. The demons were obviously aiming for the royal angels and it was horrifying that they were already so close._

_Castiel wasn’t all that fond of royalty but that didn’t mean he wanted them to be blown up by demons. A few Host teams had been sent on this mission, merely because the attack was so devastating and there were so many terrorists. Hostages were involved and the demons present were clearly an organised and experienced unit. They wore bullet-proof armour and carried automatic weapons as well as military-grade daggers, and each of them was built as though they had been lifting weights since they were two years old._

_Blood and shrapnel were_ everywhere _. Bodies were strewn about the streets, most with broken limbs and bloodied wings and fires had broken out around the royal palace. Civilians screamed for help but the ambulances couldn’t be sent out with the terrorists still hurling bombs. People were dying with no aid in sight._

_“Gadreel, stop that man with the grenade strap from throwing any more explosives. Balthazar, I need you and Jophiel to distract the demons with hostages whilst Uriel leads them to safety. Hannah, use your powers on the two at the front to stop them from shooting at the civies and it’ll give me, Castiel, Zadkiel and Paschar time to slip past into the palace grounds. Sariel, Forfax, Micah and Hadraniel, I need you to do as much as you can to get those freaks with rifles away from the palace gates and stop them from shooting us as we run for it. We’re not looking for prisoners here, shoot to kill, okay? Zadkiel, do you agree?” Anna said._

_“Affirmative,” agreed the other team leader._

_The van doors opened and Castiel was overwhelmed by the cacophony around them. Bullets flew the moment they approached the terrorists and more civilians screamed as bombs exploded around them. The Host were quick to adapt and they took to the skies to avoid the blasts and suddenly, they were on the demons._

_Castiel’s job however, was to ignore the demons outside the palace gates, so he raced after Anna and the rest of his group, intercepting the demons that had already blown the royal doors to dust. They couldn’t touch down because the moment the demons sighted them, they open fired with automatic weapons, so the small group was forced to hold their shields in front of them and hope that the bulletproof material they were wearing would prove effective._

_Frustrated, two of the demons took flight and sailed towards the group, their armour easily protecting them from the angels’ bullets. Seconds before they crashed into Zadkiel and Paschar, they revealed elegant daggers and Paschar had no time to react as the largest demon snatched his wing and sliced clean through the base. He screamed and plummeted to the ground and the demon held up his fawn wing like a trophy before tossing it away carelessly. Then he turned to Castiel, wielding his bloody dagger, and soared towards him._

_Castiel clutched his own blade. He was more confident with a knife than a gun anyway – knives required skill and agility and Castiel had trained for years perfecting those traits._

_The demon was a lot larger than him; taller and twice as broad and he could easily knock Castiel out of the sky with brute strength alone, but as the demon reached for his wing, Castiel slammed the alpha’s chin up and jerked his blade upwards towards his neck. Unfortunately, the demon managed to grab his hand before the blade made contact and Castiel hissed in pain as the demon twisted his wrist. He clawed his nails through the demon’s cheek and the alpha growled and ripped the mask from Castiel’s face, exposing him to attack._

_He jerked back as the demon attempted to slash his blade through his face and managed to slice through the alpha’s arm instead. His attacker snarled and slashed at him again, but Castiel recoiled too quickly and kicked the weapon out of his hand. The demon stared down at his falling weapon in surprise and Castiel surged forwards and tore through a leathery wing. The demon howled in agony and began to lose control of his own flying, so Castiel pressed forwards again and tore through another part of the wing, creating three separate flaps. The demon screamed and flapped the useless wing frantically as he nose-dived to the ground and Castiel chased him, slamming his blade through his back once he hit the royal drive._

_He glanced at Paschar’s mangled corpse and leapt to the air again before the same demons decided to pile on him. As he did so, a bullet grazed his knuckles and he inhaled sharply and rocketed towards his remaining team. As he reached them, Zadkiel jammed his blade into the other demon’s chest and watched with cold fury as the creature smashed into the ground._

_Anna shot Zadkiel an apologetic glance and together, the trio launched towards the ground demons._

_Anna quickly shot one demon in the neck, where his armour didn’t quite cover, and the two remaining demons hesitated a little before splitting up. One sprinted inside the palace and the other pulled a grenade from_ nowhere _and lobbed it at the trio. They bounced into the air again and Castiel veered inside the palace after the other demon, leaving Anna and Zadkiel to deal with the bomb-happy demon._

_The explosion shook the walls of the palace and plaster rained down on Castiel along with a few small crystals from an expensive chandelier. Castiel stayed put, listening out for the second terrorist and when he heard the echo of footsteps, he took flight, ensuring to keep his wingbeats as silent as possible. For once, he was grateful for the grandiose palace and its enormous corridors – flying wouldn’t have been an option otherwise._

_A bullet lodged itself in his wing and he yelped and crashed to the floor. He scrambled to his feet just in time for the demon to shove him back down again and place a gun to his head. Reflexively, he rammed his blade into the demon’s wrist and the gun clattered to the floor as his attacker cursed. He punched the demon in the mouth and flipped their positions, only for the demon to suddenly swing his horns at Castiel’s face and slice from his eyebrow to the corner of his mouth. Castiel yelped and the demon quickly disarmed him and clenched a fist around his throat. Castiel scrambled at the hand and watched in horror as the demon grabbed his fallen blade._

_A huge creature with oversized claws, gnashing teeth, beady eyes, antlers, and golden fur galloped down the corridor with a haunting howl. Castiel stared at the Jakyl with wide eyes and wondered how the ferocious predator had found a way into the palace. The demon jumped to his feet with a fearful black gaze and sprinted in the opposite direction._

_Knowing he wouldn’t survive an encounter with a Jakyl and certain there was no way he could outrun the speedy predator, Castiel whipped out his gun and shot the demon in the back of the head. If he was going to die, he might as well take a terrorist with him._

_The Jakyl slowed to a halt once the demon’s lifeless body skidded across the polished hallway. It stared at Castiel with oddly warm eyes then ran back the way it came to where three other angels had suddenly appeared. If Castiel wasn’t feeling so light headed from both the bullet wound and the deep slice through his face, he would have sworn that the Jakyl morphed into a golden-winged angel…_

_Another explosion rattled the building and when Castiel next looked up, the four angels had vanished._

_He staggered to his feet and ran towards the entrance, determined to help his team, but when he arrived outside, it was obvious that the threat was pretty much over. Demon corpses littered the palace grounds and Castiel watched as Gadreel took out the bomb-wearing demon with another demon’s automatic weapon. He collapsed to the ground and the Host glanced around and sighed in relief at the lack of terrorists._

_They had done it. They had contained the threat and saved the king and princes._

_The damage to the buildings and street could be fixed. The ambulances could be deployed now that the terrorists had been destroyed. The few civilians that had lost their lives would be sorely missed, but their families would be generously compensated and supported and the dead would not be forgotten._

_Castiel glanced to Paschar and his wings drooped. The other omega had been young and eager to serve the public. He had been a kind soul and despite Castiel never having worked with him personally, he knew Paschar had been a great gunman. His sacrifice would not be in vain._

_Zadkiel looked devastated as he hovered over the younger angel’s corpse. He gently closed Paschar’s agonised eyes and had to avert his gaze, grieving his fallen subordinate in silence as the rest of his team surrounded him with solemn stares._

_“GADREEL!”_

_Castiel whirled around at Balthazar’s alarmed cry and watched a demon fade into view behind Gadreel, almost as though she had been standing there the entire time, invisible to everyone around her._

_Gadreel turned in confusion and then his eyes rounded as she sliced her blade from his right ear to his left. She faded from view once more and Gadreel sputtered and staggered backwards, face paling as blood spurted from his throat. He tumbled to the floor and held a hand to his neck, breathing becoming ragged as more cherry liquid jettisoned from the open wound._

_“NO!” Balthazar screamed as he raced towards his mate and held him to his chest. He pressed his hand against the sliced artery as tears streamed down his face._

_“Help!” he begged frantically. “Help!”_

_Castiel’s heart thumped wildly against his ribcage, his throat closing up as he watched Gadreel struggle for breath._

_Nonononono. This couldn’t be happening._

_“Someone do something!” Balthazar bawled, holding his dying mate closer. The rest of the team stood in shocked silence, knowing it was already too late._

_Gadreel gurgled and coughed, blood seeping between his lips as his eyes sought out Balthazar’s face fearfully._

_“No,” whimpered Balthazar as he began to rock his mate gently. “No, you can’t die.” He cupped his lover’s cheek desperately. “Not like this.”_

_Gadreel’s mouth worked open and closed, no words forthcoming and he clutched at Balthazar in terror, staring at his mate with frightened, glowing eyes._

_Tears flooded Balthazar’s face. “I’m here,” he breathed. “I’m here, love.”_

_Reality sunk in and water glistened in Gadreel’s eyes as he gripped his mate tighter. Blood poured thick and fast through Balthazar’s fingers._

_“I love you,” whispered Balthazar, voice cracking. “I love you so much. More than anything. I’ll always love you, no matter what happens.”_

_Tears rolled down Gadreel’s cheeks and he fumbled for Balthazar’s hand and squeezed it as he gurgled around a well of blood in his throat._

_“Don’t leave me,” pleaded Balthazar as Gadreel stared up at him with too much fear in his gaze._

_Then his grip slackened and his gaze dulled and he relaxed completely against Balthazar’s chest._

_Balthazar sobbed over his mate’s lifeless body._

*             *             *

When Dean awoke, the other side of the bed was cool. He frowned sleepily and stretched his hand over the sheets in a blind search for Castiel and finally cracked an eye open when he realised the angel had gone.

He huffed unhappily and swung his legs out of bed, glancing around the room in a fruitless attempt at locating his missing omega. When it was clear that Castiel was absent, he shuffled to the door in his slippers and smiled at the faint scent of bacon and fresh coffee.

He trudged down the corridor, relieved to find Castiel staring down at a crackling pan.

Dean lingered in the doorway for a moment, admiring glossy feathers, tousled hair, and the way thin sleepwear clung to defined muscles. He noted the tense wings and the way that Castiel was purposefully not looking at him, and he would have been worried that Castiel regretted kissing him had it not been for the omega’s silver halo.

“Morning, gorgeous,” mumbled Dean as he slid in behind Castiel and settled between his wings. He kissed his angel’s neck as he slipped his arms around his stomach and he smirked when Castiel relaxed against him, halo turning honey-coloured.

Dean lay his chin on Castiel’s shoulder and watched the angel flip the bacon in the pan. It sizzled a little and released a mouth-watering aroma.

“Did you think I would change my mind?” he asked softly.

There was a pause and then Castiel offered him a guilty nod. Dean kissed a scar that was peeking out from under his collar.

“I won’t pretend to know what I’m doing with another guy and I’ll admit that I have no idea what you expect from me, but I want this. I want you.”

Castiel closed his eyes and swallowed, halo flickering silver again and Dean kissed his jaw. “This goes at your pace, Cas,” he murmured. “I don’t care if you’re never ready for sex. I just want you. I want to hold you and kiss you and groom you and be there for you when you need me. Is that okay?”

Castiel sighed shakily and took the pan off the heat before snaking his arms around Dean and pressing their heads together.

“Tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable, yeah?” Dean whispered. “Doesn’t matter what I’m doing – if you don’t like it, you tell me to stop, okay?”

Castiel’s lips tugged into a smile and he pulled Dean into a hug and snuggled against his chest. Dean rubbed his back soothingly.

“Dad? Dean?”

Dean startled and turned to the little angel in the doorway. Samandriel raised an eyebrow at them and Dean felt his cheeks heat at being caught. Would Castiel even want Samandriel to know about them? Was it too soon to reveal the change in their relationship? What if Samandriel got jealous of Dean stealing the attentions of his one remaining parent?

Castiel held a hand out for Samandriel to take, one arm still curled around Dean’s back. Samandriel grasped the outstretched hand and tilted his head slightly as Castiel mentally explained something to him.

Suddenly, Samandriel’s face brightened and he grinned at Dean excitedly.

“Does this mean I technically have two dads now?”

Dean huffed out a breath that he hadn’t even realised he had been holding. He ruffled Samandriel’s hair affectionately and spared Castiel a grateful glance. Samandriel’s approval obviously meant a lot to him, even if he hadn’t necessarily realised it at first.

Samandriel stared hungrily at the cooling pan. “Is that bacon?”

Castiel smiled and carefully detached himself from Dean before returning to the stove. Dean finally noticed the two mugs of hot coffee standing proud on the counter and he helped himself to one, watching his angel cook. Castiel had vastly improved his cooking skills this past month and Dean was genuinely impressed. He no longer had to rescue pans from boiling over or baking trays from burning – his angel was a quick learner.

He shook his head at himself. When had his life with Castiel become so domestic?

Not that he was complaining, mind you.

When the bacon, eggs and sausages were nestled neatly on plates, Dean stole a kiss before grabbing his breakfast and settling down at their new dining table. He watched Castiel and Samandriel’s halos blaze golden as they tucked in to their meals, wings fluttering behind them unconsciously with contentment.

Dean grinned. Definitely not complaining.

 

*             *             *

 

**_“Jack? Are you okay?”_ **

Jack startled and snapped his gaze to Samandriel, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands and surging to his feet before plastering on a wide smile.

**_“Yeah. Are you?”_ **

Samandriel frowned at the demon’s black eyes. He was beginning to learn that a demon’s eyes sliding to black didn’t always mean anger. In much the same way that angels’ eyes glowed when they were having an intense emotional response to something, demons’ eyes became entirely black when they were experiencing a flood of emotion. The challenge was trying to work out which emotion Jack was feeling.

He glanced around the field, gaze flicking between all the other children as they played and laughed and chased one another as part of their made-up games. Samandriel scowled at them; why did they never invite Jack to join in with them?

Jack began to fidget at Samandriel’s silence before eventually sighing and staring at his feet sadly. **_“I was thinking about my mom.”_**

Samandriel blinked and returned his attention to Jack. **_“…Is she okay? Do you miss her or something?”_** He had never really missed his own mother once he and his dad had parted ways with her. Maybe he had in those first few months but if anything, it was only because he was accustomed to her always being in the house. He knew she held no love for him and now that he was nearly eleven, he could honestly state that the feeling was mutual. He did, however, understand that his relationship with his mother was unusual and that most people were quite attached to their mothers.

Jack made a strange face somewhere between a grimace and a restrained whimper. **_“She um… she died. A few months ago.”_**

Samandriel straightened in alarm and his first instinct was to physically comfort Jack, but the demon factor made him pause. He didn’t know the etiquette for this sort of thing in demon culture and he was still annoyingly wary of Jack’s confession being part of some twisted demon trick. He hated that he would even consider that of Jack, but it wouldn’t be the first time a demon had tricked him and subsequently hurt him for being so naïve.

 ** _“I… I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t know. How… Are you okay? Do I need to…?”_** He looked around frustratedly, uncertain what to do now he had that information. Was he supposed to get a teacher?

Jack’s lip wobbled a little, gaze an inky black. **_“She was an omega like you. We went to the store for groceries and I was looking at all the nougat when I heard her scream from a couple aisles over. I tried running to her but these scary angels and humans in red masks started waving their guns around and someone got shot and the next thing, I opened my eyes and she was gone. Everyone was shouting at one another and I tried to ask them where they had taken my mom, but they didn’t listen because they were too busy with the cashier that had been shot.”_**

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. **_“The neighbours took me to one of those hostels where demons and angels first go to when they come to Earth. I guess they didn’t know what else to do with me since I have no other family. Three months later the police take me to the place where they hold all the dead people and they pull my mom out of this tiny fridge. She was completely naked and her horns were pretty much snapped off and she had all these bruises and huge wounds everywhere and in the middle of her chest was a long hole that looked as though someone had stabbed her.”_** Jack huddled in on himself. **_“She was so pale. She used to have beautiful caramel-coloured wings and they were all torn and faded. I told the police that she was my mom and then they took me back to the hostel and just… left.”_**

Samandriel stared at the demon in shock, mouth falling open and Jack toed at the ground and wrapped his arms around himself.

 ** _“Nobody would tell me what happened to her, but I heard some of the adults talking about the sorts of things she probably had done to her before she got stabbed and thrown out of the back of a van onto the street. They said some really horrible things and I hope they’re lying because my mom… my mom was the kindest, sweetest, most amazing mom ever and she didn’t deserve… she didn’t deserve that. They said that she was thrown into a room and a bunch of alphas and betas-”_** He snapped his mouth shut and shook his head angrily then offered Samandriel an apologetic stare. **_“Trust me. You’re better off not knowing what they said. It really was awful.”_**

Samandriel suddenly felt very sick. He knew exactly what those adults had said about Jack’s mother because he had experienced it all first-hand, alongside his own father. At least his father was alive to tell the story…

**_“Samandriel? I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry, I-”_ **

Even after everything he had just told Samandriel, Jack was still more concerned for the angel’s wellbeing than his own.

A wave of protectiveness crashed through Samandriel’s entire body and he spread his wings wide and yanked Jack towards him. The demon stiffened at first, scent turning fearful, and Samandriel realised that Jack was probably afraid of angels after watching them kidnap his mother. Yet he had still been brave enough to approach Samandriel and offer his friendship – even after Samandriel had attacked him.

He had sorely misjudged this demon.

He wrapped the demon in his wings and hugged him tight, rubbing his back in the same way Dean did with him when he was upset.

Eventually, Jack relaxed inch by inch into Samandriel’s hold and raised his arms to clutch at the bases of the angel’s wings as he buried his face in Samandriel’s neck.

Deciding that Jack had taken so many risks and it was time for him to return the favour, Samandriel held Jack closer and swallowed nervously.

**_“It happened to me and my dad, too.”_ **

Jack jerked backwards to stare at him and Samandriel licked his dry lips and forced himself to breathe against the weight in his chest.

 ** _“Five years. They kept us like that for five years. The people in red. Alphas and betas visited us every day. The things they did to us… to my dad…”_** Samandriel trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut, unable to look at Jack’s horrified gaze any longer.

He yelped when Jack suddenly lifted his shirt. He instinctively tried to pull away from the demon but Jack held fast and gaped at the smattering of burns and scars on his stomach – nowhere near as severe as the marks canvasing his father’s stomach, but still horrific in their own way.

 ** _“They did this to you?”_** Jack breathed before a thick scowl marred his face and he stared at Samandriel with a furious, black gaze. ** _“They hurt you.”_**

Samandriel grimaced and rolled his top back down, glancing around to ensure no one had seen the mess of his body. Jack’s gaze softened and he resumed their surprisingly comforting hug. **_“I can heal you, if you’d like? No one deserves marks like that, especially not you,”_** Jack murmured sincerely beside his ear.

Samandriel found himself scenting at Jack’s neck. The demon smelled of cookies and roasted chestnuts and nutmeg and Samandriel had genuinely never realised that demons were able to smell so good. Was it alright to suddenly feel safe around Jack? Was that allowed? Were demons and angels allowed to hold each other like this?

 ** _“…You’d really do that for me?”_** Samandriel asked quietly.

Jack’s wings shifted against Samandriel’s and they manoeuvred themselves until their wings were curled around one another. Samandriel felt himself relax against the demon.

 ** _“I might not have been able to heal my mom but I can at least heal you. If you trust me, I mean.”_** Jack averted his gaze and Samandriel was startled by the growl that escaped his own chest. He had never felt this protective of someone before – someone who wasn’t his dad, anyway. Usually he was the one being protected.

Jack tensed at the sound but Samandriel clung to him and nuzzled his neck again.

 ** _“I trust you,”_** murmured Samandriel, surprised to find that it was the truth.

Jack paused and then a warm, soothing energy flowed through Samandriel’s body like a fine blanket of silk. The demon held him a fraction tighter and Samandriel rolled up his sleeve to watch each scar and burn mark fade to nothing as though they had never been there is the first place.

His eyes widened and his breath hitched and all too soon Jack’s energy receded, leaving his body completely healed. It was as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his chest and he could suddenly breathe again. There was no physical evidence left of his time at Ketch’s and he pulled away from Jack to gingerly lift his shirt. An unblemished stomach greeted him and he released a relieved sob before flicking his overwhelmed gaze to Jack. How could he even begin to express his gratefulness for what the beta had done for him?

He was finally completely and utterly free of Ketch and all those other monsters that had abused him. He could finally move on and start a new life – a better life – with Dean and his dad. A new chapter.

His mouth worked open and closed for a few seconds before he abruptly lunged at Jack. The demon cried out in a mixture of astonishment and terror as they stumbled to the soft grass, but he soon quietened when he realised that Samandriel was clutching at him desperately, breaths shaking and wings trembling.

He immediately threw his arms around the angel and Samandriel huffed a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

 ** _“Thank you,”_** whispered Samandriel. **_“Thank you, thank you, thank you-”_**

Jack collapsed against the grass with a relieved chuckle, pulling Samandriel with him and the angel grinned against his neck and cuddled into him with a blazing gold halo.

 ** _“You’re welcome,”_** hummed Jack, toying with one of Samandriel’s wings curiously. Samandriel closed his eyes and let the demon explore. He could trust Jack not to hurt him. He wrapped his arms around the beta more securely and the demon made a happy sound as he continued to poke at the angel’s feathers.

After a while, Samandriel broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them. **_“Jack?”_**

**_“Hmm?”_ **

**_“Do you still live at the hostel?”_** Samandriel asked, watching the demon’s fingers trace over his feathers.

Jack shook his head. **_“No. A nice old lady took me home with her a couple months ago. She can’t see or hear very well and she doesn’t walk too good, but I think she likes the idea of ‘rescuing’ people in need of a home. She’s sweet though. I like her.”_** His fingers paused in their adventures over Samandriel’s wing. **_“Although I don’t think the angels she took on as part of that programme thing like me very much.”_**

Samandriel frowned and propped himself up on one elbow to look down at the demon. **_“How do you mean?”_**

Jack shrugged. **_“They just… scowl at me a lot. They shout at me sometimes when Bessie isn’t around. Sometimes they growl and flare their wings and stuff. There’s only two of them so usually I ignore it and they’re a lot older and bigger than me, so there’s not much I can do about it anyway. They just don’t like demons very much.”_**

Samandriel curled his wing around Jack possessively and the demon’s lips twitched into a grin.

 ** _“You should come home with me tonight then for dinner. Dean is so cool and he’s a really good cook, and my dad…”_** Samandriel trailed off as his gaze tracked over Samandriel’s tiny antlers and leathery wings.

He would cross that bridge when he got to it.

 ** _“You should come,”_** he said instead. **_“We can play games and draw and watch movies and stuff.”_**

Jack beamed at him. **_“Really? You really want me to come home with you?”_**

 ** _“Well… you’re my best friend, aren’t you?”_** Samandriel said carefully and suddenly, Jack’s eyes slid to black and his wings vibrated with excitement.

At first, Samandriel stiffened at the inky gaze but he soon relaxed once he recognised the cause of it and he smiled back and settled onto his friend’s shoulder. Jack hugged him closer and resumed playing with his feathers.

 ** _“You have really pretty wings,”_** Jack stated. In response, Samandriel fluffed his feathers and smirked when Jack cooed over them and raked his fingers through his secondaries.

He eyed the demon’s bat-like wings until curiosity finally got the better of him and he stroked a hand over one, stunned at how warm it was.

 ** _“It’s like velvet!”_** Samandriel cried in surprise and Jack chuckled and nodded, wing leaning into Samandriel’s gentle touch.

**_“I thought demon wings were cold and leathery!”_ **

The beta shook his head and Samandriel explored the wing more confidently now that he knew Jack wasn’t going to rebuke him. The surface felt almost fuzzy beneath his fingertips and despite being so thick and tough, Samandriel could feel tiny blood vessels pulsing just beneath the skin. The wings ran far hotter than his own – although he supposed they would have to since demons didn’t have any feathers to insulate them – and the bones were far longer and more delicate than any of the bones in an angel wing. They stretched to the very bottom of the wing and seemed spindly enough to snap if too much pressure was applied in the wrong place and each bone separated the wing into foldable sections.

Jack’s wings were fascinating and Samandriel had never felt anything like them. Why had his father told him that demons were cold and leathery to touch when they so clearly weren’t?

He traced over a large blood vessel before glancing up towards Jack’s tiny antlers. Surely, they were cold and hard like he had always been told?

 ** _“Can I…?”_** He raised a hand and Jack nodded. He stroked two fingers down one small nub and grinned. Like the wing, it bore a velvety texture. Unlike the wing however, it was immovable and only ran warm at the base, where the blood supply converged. It wasn’t at all what he had expected.

 ** _“I always thought halos were solid,”_** hummed Jack before passing a single finger through the golden ring of light floating atop Samandriel’s head. Samandriel startled a little then smiled.

**_“They’re not solid, but we can still feel stuff through them.”_ **

Jack frowned, intrigued. He lightly circled his finger around the halo and Samandriel shuddered and buried his nose in the demon’s neck, scenting deeply.

 ** _“Sorry,”_** Jack said immediately, hand recoiling.

Samandriel shook his head. **_“It’s nice in a weird way,”_** he mumbled. **_“Just not used to people being gentle with it. Usually people just grab it and yank at it. That really hurts.”_**

Jack scowled and growled quietly in a manner that reminded Samandriel of a kitten trying to scare off a large Rottweiler. **_“They’ll never hurt you again. I won’t let them,”_** the young demon promised.

Samandriel bit back a grin at Jack’s display of bravado. He breathed in the enticing smell of nutmeg and cookies and chestnuts and allowed Jack to play with his halo as he closed his eyes. He really liked this demon.

 ** _“’S warm,”_** Jack murmured as he pawed at the golden light. **_“I can kinda catch it if I really concentrate.”_** He held the halo between his finger and thumb, squinting as his tongue poked out between his lips.

As Jack discovered more about angel anatomy, Samandriel found himself settling against the demon’s body and relaxing. He was free of the scars that reminded him of the monsters who had caused them. He would no longer have to avoid looking in the mirror when he got ready for school. He wouldn’t have to wear long sleeves and pants all the time just to avoid invasive questions about what had happened to him.

He had Jack to thank for that. Jack, the beta demon who didn’t want to hurt him and still wanted to be his friend after their first meeting had led to the other boy taking a trip to the school nurse. Jack, who defended him against Ryuk when the alpha said hurtful things about him. Jack, who had lost his mother because a bunch of angels and humans had kidnapped her and had subsequently been dumped in a home with two adult angels who growled and yelled at him. Jack, who had warm velvety wings and the most amazing scent in the universe. Jack, who was nothing like the demons he had learned to be fearful of.

Safe and happy, Samandriel didn’t fight the temptation of a nap under the sun beside a demon who enjoyed poking his halo.

He missed how Jack’s gaze softened when he realised the angel was asleep and he didn’t even twitch when the beta curled his wings around him. However, his wings did lean into the gentle petting Jack offered them and Samandriel unconsciously wriggled closer to the demon.

Jack smiled down at the sleeping omega and watched over him until the bell rang for the end of lunch. He carefully woke his friend and they wandered to class together, Samandriel excited to show his new friend his home.

 

*             *             *

 

Dean’s brows furrowed as Samandriel sprinted over, a young demon in tow.

“Dean! Can Jack stay for dinner?” Samandriel asked excitedly, fingers still curled firmly around the demon’s wrist. “Pleeeeeease?”

“Um… sure,” said Dean, surprised. Wasn’t this the kid that Samandriel had thumped a few weeks ago?

Samandriel’s eyes glowed blue for a brief moment before he jerked on Jack’s hand and the demon laughed and ran to the car with him. They hopped into the back seat together, leaving Dean alone outside. He raised his eyebrows and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Uh… Jack? Do you need to call your parents and tell them where you’re going?” The last thing Dean needed was to be accused of child abduction.

“I don’t have parents anymore,” Jack shrugged before returning to his conversation with Samandriel in quick Enochian.

Dean blinked. How was he supposed to respond to that?

“Right, okay… do you need to tell your guardians where you’re going?”

Jack paused and tilted his head. “…I could call Bessie?”

Dean nodded. “Do you have a phone?”

Jack shook his head so Dean fished his out of his pocket and handed it to the boy. Jack stared at it for a long moment and Dean deflated a little.

“You do know her number, right?”

Once again, Jack shook his head. Dean sighed and held his hand out and Jack placed the phone in his palm.

“Do you know your address?”

Jack nodded with a smile and Dean started the ignition. “I’ll get the phone book out once we get home.”

Jack and Samandriel settled into their seats and chattered away to one another. Dean watched them from the rear-view mirror and couldn’t help but be proud of the young angel for making an effort to befriend a demon – and a beta at that. He just hoped Castiel would let go of his prejudices for the sake of innocent Jack. A ten-year-old kid with no parents didn’t need the stress of being intimidated by a six-foot adult angel who was trained to kill armed demons.

Dean parked up outside the house and immediately Jack gasped at the sight of the animals.

True to his word, Castiel had begun working on the farm as a guide of sorts; showing people around and letting them feed the animals and muck out stables if they were so inclined. There were a few humans dotted around – mostly children – and whilst the majority were hovering near the cattle and chickens, a couple had wandered to the fruit groves. Castiel himself was filling Hera’s water bucket.

 ** _“Come on, Jack. I’ll show you Persephone,”_** said Samandriel, grabbing Jack’s hand and practically yanking him out of the car. The demon seemed happy to be dragged along.

A smile touched Dean’s lips as he watched the pair sprint across the field to the three-legged lamb. Persephone bounded over to her favourite angel and greeted him as enthusiastically as ever before sniffing at the small demon and wiggling her tail when he scratched her chin.

Deciding that he had better grab the phone book before Jack’s guardian began to wonder why he hadn’t arrived home on the bus, Dean ambled inside, leaving the boys to play.

Once he had explained to the nice (if a bit dizzy) old lady on the phone that Jack was staying at a friend’s for dinner, he returned outside just in time to see Castiel’s wings flare in fury as he spotted Jack playing with his son. Dean broke out into a run as Castiel took flight but the angel was faster and Dean’s stomach dropped as the oblivious Samandriel and Jack chased Persephone around the back of a barn, out of view of the surrounding humans. Castiel soared behind the barn after them and Dean pushed himself faster, praying that the older angel wouldn’t do anything to harm Jack.

He skidded to a halt behind the barn and was greeted by the sight of Castiel’s eyes blazing blue as he fanned his wings at Jack, halo burning an angry black. Jack was trembling violently, wings pinned to his back and a low whine on his lips as he stared at Castiel with a wide, onyx gaze.

However, what caught Dean’s attention most was the way Samandriel was perched between them, a scowl on his face and wings fanned out protectively in front of Jack as he glared at his father.

**_“Back off, Dad. Jack’s my friend.”_ **

Dean blinked in surprise and flicked his gaze between the trio, reluctant to intervene. This was important. If Samandriel could show his own father that not all demons were bad, then maybe they could break down one more barrier that stopped Castiel from being fully integrated into society. Another chance to show Helen that Castiel could learn – that he wasn’t the aggressive creature she believed him to be.

Castiel frowned and his gaze dimmed a little but he didn’t relax. Jack whimpered softly and began eying escape routes.

 ** _“Stop it, Dad,”_** demanded Samandriel. **_“You’re scaring him. I told you; he’s my friend.”_**

Jack backed up. **_“I should go,”_** he whispered, watching Castiel warily.

Samandriel’s wings sagged and he swivelled his head to look at the demon in dismay. **_“Please stay. My dad’s just… he’s not had much luck with demons. He won’t do anything, I promise. He’s just being protective of me.”_**

Castiel lowered his wings, halo fading to silver as he watched the pair converse. Jack swallowed thickly and took another step backwards.

 ** _“…He’s scary,”_** whispered Jack to Samandriel.

Castiel raised his eyebrows and Samandriel grimaced before taking a step towards his friend. **_“He’s okay. I promise. Just… just stay.”_**

Jack hesitated as he eyed Castiel, then nodded slowly and shuffled closer to the little angel. He reached out a hand and fisted Samandriel’s wing, in search of comfort as he had done earlier that afternoon.

Samandriel flinched in surprise and suddenly, Castiel’s wings snapped outwards and he lunged at Jack.

Jack cried out in alarm and scrambled away from Samandriel only to be knocked to the floor by one sweep of Castiel’s wing. The demon sobbed fearfully and tried to crawl away but Castiel grasped him by his shirt collar and bared his teeth.

 ** _“Dad! No!”_** Samandriel screamed as his father loomed over the cowering beta.

Jack struggled against his hold and when Castiel refused to release him, the demon clawed desperately at his hands before kicking harshly at Castiel’s stomach. Castiel doubled over in pain and Jack smacked into the ground before attempting to scarper away but Castiel was far too quick and snatched his wing. He pulled hard and the beta gave a pained cry and Dean finally rushed over.

“Let go of him,” snarled Dean as he grabbed Castiel’s wrist and the angel’s eyes blew wide as he stared at Dean in a combination of shock and fear. Dean never snarled at him.

He immediately released Jack and the alpha completely ignored Castiel, dropping to his knees to tend to Jack instead.

“You okay, kid?” Dean made sure to place himself directly between Castiel and Jack, his back to the angel as he huddled over Jack protectively.

Jack sniffled and lowered his gaze, clearly wary of Dean.

 ** _“Jack!”_** Samandriel shouted as he raced over, enveloping the beta in his wings and holding him close. Jack recoiled at first and tried to pull away but Samandriel held fast and smoothed a hand over a velvety wing.

 ** _“I want to go home,”_** whimpered Jack, bottom lip beginning to quiver as he buried his hands in Samandriel’s wings once more. This time, Samandriel didn’t flinch.

 ** _“I’m sorry,”_** Samandriel whispered. **_“I’m really sorry. I won’t let him hurt you again.”_** He shot his father an angry glare and Castiel straightened in surprise.

Jack shook his head insistently. **_“I want to go home,”_** he practically begged. **_“Your dad’s really scary.”_**

Finally, Castiel pulled his wings to his back and stepped away from the two children, brows furrowing.

“Come on, kid. I’ll take you home if you want,” Dean offered softly, holding a hand out for Jack as he stood. The demon took it carefully, disentangling himself from Samandriel.

 ** _“Nice going, Dad!”_** Samandriel hissed at his father and the older angel reeled backwards with wide eyes as his own son flared his wings at him. **_“Way to be a horrible jerk!”_**

Castiel’s mouth opened and closed like a fish for a few moments before he squared his jaw and eyed Jack’s retreating form. Dean kept his back to the older omega as he guided Jack to the car, but he heard Castiel take flight before he appeared before them, blocking their path to the Impala.

Jack jolted and cowered behind Dean and Castiel’s mouth drew downwards. He held his hands up placatingly until Jack peered around Dean’s legs. The angel rubbed a fist over his chest, right where heart was.

“He says he’s sorry,” Dean murmured, glancing at Jack from the corner of his eye.

Jack refused to move from the safety of Dean’s legs.

Castiel made some quick hand gestures and Dean glanced at the little demon from the corner of his eye. “He says he’s sorry for hurting you and he didn’t mean to scare you.” Dean knew that Castiel didn’t truly mean those things, but Jack didn’t need to know that.

Castiel made a precise movement with his hands and Dean translated it directly. “Stay.”

Jack slowly ventured out from behind Dean’s legs and eyed the angel suspiciously. Samandriel suddenly landed beside him.

 ** _“Don’t go,”_** Samandriel pleaded softly.

Finally, Jack caved and he inched closer to Samandriel in search of comfort and protection. The gesture made Castiel’s eyebrows raise; he had never seen a beta seek out reassurance from an omega.

Samandriel beamed and whisked the demon away, tugging him towards the chewing cattle and within a minute, Jack had forgotten about Castiel’s attack.

Dean had not. With a disappointed head shake at the angel, he returned to the house.

 

 

*             *             *

 

When Jack had been safely deposited at home and Samandriel was tucked up in bed, Castiel hovered uncertainly in the doorway to Dean’s bedroom. His wings flicked nervously and his halo shone silver as he watched Dean tidy up clothes that hadn’t quite made it to the linen basket.

Dean ignored him for a little while but when it was clear that the omega had no intention of approaching him, he sighed, back facing Castiel.

“What you did to Jack today… that wasn’t fair, Cas.”

Immediately, Castiel frowned and raised his hands, ready to argue but Dean turned to face him with a hard look.

“You assaulted a ten-year-old you’ve never even met. Don’t you dare try to defend that,” Dean interrupted bitterly and Castiel’s eyes widened, arms falling limp by his sides.

There was a long pause until Dean closed his eyes, scraping up as much patience as he could.

“There are times when I’m in awe of you, Cas. There are times where I want to tell everyone just how incredible you are; how strong and brave you are; how kind and clever; how gentle and curious you are…” Dean’s mouth pulled into a thin line as he eyed the angel. “And then there are days like today where I can barely look at you.”

Castiel shook his head in protest, hands beginning to move.

“You hit a kid!” Dean snarled fiercely and Castiel took a step backwards, halo flickering to white.

“I don’t care what prejudices you have about betas and alphas, I don’t care how much you despise demons,” Dean narrowed his eyes warningly, “but if you ever hurt a child again, I will march straight down to Helen myself and tell her that you’re unfit for the programme, you hear me? It’s my duty to protect people, kids included, and if that means protecting them from you, so be it. I won’t let you hurt innocent children.”

Dean watched as Castiel’s wings tucked close to his back, head bowing slightly in submission, and he closed his eyes defeatedly. He knew Castiel needed time to heal; he knew the angel had been through a lot and had reasons for the way he acted, but he wasn’t certain that he could be in a relationship with someone who was fearful of him. He wasn’t sure if he could keep doing this with Castiel; if he could keep a lid on his emotions in case it scared the angel. He didn’t think he could keep backing down from arguments so as not to frighten Castiel – he deserved to have his say as much as the angel did and it wasn’t fair that he had to bottle up his opinions.

He opened his mouth to tell Castiel to relax when suddenly, the angel exhaled and met his gaze, wings easing out of their fearful position as his halo darkened from blinding white to a dull silver.

 _‘I understand,’_ Castiel signed slowly. _‘I’m sorry. I’ll try to control myself better around Samandriel’s friends.’_

Dean shook his head but he was inwardly surprised at Castiel’s apology – he had expected the angel to distance himself and shrink back into submissiveness as he usually did when Dean gave even a hint of being annoyed or angry.

“That’s the point, Cas,” Dean sighed. “It’s not just Samandriel’s friends who you need to control your outbursts around. Demons in the street haven’t done anything to you, yet how many times have you flared your wings at them or flashed your eyes? How many times have you bared your teeth at them? I know you’ve had bad experiences with demons in the past, but it doesn’t give you the right to be a dick to the ones you meet for the first time. Unless they’ve done something to you first, you shouldn’t start fights with them.”

Castiel frowned but appeared to be taking Dean’s words into consideration.

Dean shrugged. “Look, man… Rome wasn’t built in a day. I know it’s gonna take time for you to relax around a species you were at war with on Heaven, but you’re gonna have to learn eventually, otherwise Helen’s never gonna allow you freedom.”

Castiel dropped his gaze like a scolded child and nodded reluctantly. He didn’t look afraid though, so Dean was pleased by the angel’s progress, even if he was still a little irritated with him for attacking Jack.

Castiel eyed the door and shuffled towards it sadly.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked, brows pinching together as he flicked his gaze to the bed. Did Castiel not want to sleep with him tonight?

Castiel paused and stared at Dean in confusion. His hands made some fluttery movements. _‘I assume you would rather me sleep somewhere else tonight?’_

Dean blinked. “What? Why would I want that? This is our bed.” The omega had slept in that bed with him every night since their feelings for one another had been revealed and Dean honestly couldn’t remember sleeping so well. Despite them only being together for a short space of time, Dean couldn’t imagine going to bed without Castiel in his arms, soft feathers blanketing them both.

 _‘You’re angry with me,’_ Castiel stated, perplexed.

Dean rolled his shoulders. “Well… yeah, I’m a little mad about you hurting Jack, but what’s that got to do with us sleeping in the same bed?”

Castiel stared, halo turning brown with puzzlement. _‘You still wish me to stay?’_

Dean’s gaze softened. “Cas… I’ve had my say and we’re done with it for now. I can be annoyed with something you’ve done but still want to spend time with you. I’m not gonna kick you out of your own bed or ignore you like a child would. We’ve argued and now we’ll move on.”

Castiel stood frozen, eyes wide and stunned as he gazed at the alpha. He shook his head after a moment and, with shaking hands, began to sign.

 _‘I’ve never… She never… We didn’t… I didn’t think you could…’_ His movements stuttered and restarted, becoming more frantic with each thought racing through the angel’s mind.

Dean closed the distance between them and gently grasped his trembling hands to still their movements, before wrapping his omega into a hug.

“Hannah not like that, huh?” he whispered, lips brushing his angel’s hair. Castiel had told him all about Hannah one evening over a few beers and Dean wasn’t exactly fond of the woman. His angels deserved better.

Castiel curled his fists against the alpha’s shirt and shook his head. Dean kissed his head soothingly and Castiel’s wings shuddered.

“Come to bed,” he murmured. Castiel nodded.

When they were finally undressed and cuddled up under the sheets together, the room submerged in darkness, Castiel traced a single word over Dean’s chest.

 

_Sorry_

It took a few seconds for Dean to work it out and when he finally made sense of the message, he squeezed his angel gently.

“I know. Promise me you’ll at least try to keep your cool around demons?”

Castiel nodded against his shoulder and Dean allowed a small smile to crawl over his face. He pulled his angel close and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Character death
> 
> Merry Christmas everybody! (Or Happy Hanukkah!)


	21. Castiel's Revelation

_Kisses were peppered across his jaw, down his throat, over his chest, onto his stomach, lower… lower…_

_Balthazar arched as Gadreel wrapped his lips around him, a sleepy groan breaking the silence. He curled his fingers into soft tufts of hair and Gadreel smiled around him, his tongue sweeping over the head of Balthazar’s knot._

_The beta cursed under his breath and spread his legs wider, and Gadreel’s clever fingers brushed against his balls, stroking, teasing, caressing._

_Balthazar whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. “Gadreel,” he begged._

_The alpha grinned and hollowed his cheeks, forcing Balthazar to arch again with a breathy cry. Gadreel pulled off to lap at him, sucking and nuzzling whenever he pleased until his mate was a quivering wreck, fists twisting the sheets and wings curled at the tips in pleasure._

_“Gadreel,” Balthazar whimpered again, desperate._

_The alpha huffed a laugh and wrapped long fingers around his lover’s swollen knot, tugging gently at first as he worshipped his stomach with open-mouthed kisses. Then Balthazar jerked his hips upwards and Gadreel tightened his grip and quickened his pace, shifting to suck on his balls and lap at the insides of his thighs._

_Balthazar came with a whine and watched as Gadreel sucked him clean, doting as always. He carded his fingers through the alpha’s hair, brushing a finger around his golden halo just to hear his lover hum._

_“What a lovely way of waking up,” smirked Balthazar and Gadreel winked at him before nuzzling his stomach adoringly._

_“You looked so beautiful this morning,” Gadreel whispered, resting his head on his mate’s stomach. “I couldn’t help myself.”_

_Balthazar’s gaze softened. “Fifteen years of being mated and you’re still in the honeymoon phase.”_

_Gadreel slipped his arms around him and closed his eyes, content to lie on his lover’s warm stomach. “I have a gorgeous, quick-witted, fiery mate. What do you expect? He deserves to be loved and cherished and I’m the lucky one who he allows to touch and please him. It’s my job to ensure that his needs are taken care of before everything else.”_

_Balthazar cocooned Gadreel in his wings, heart doing its best to break free of his chest. “I fall in love with you a little more with each passing day. I hope you know that,” he whispered, smoothing a hand down one of Gadreel’s ruffled wings._

_“You are my soulmate,” murmured Gadreel. “My blazing sun, my brightest star… You give me strength and courage. You light up the darkness when I am lost, you soothe me when I am afraid. You are my everything and I will gladly give everything I have and am to you until my last breath. I am yours, forever and always.”_

_Balthazar’s breath caught in his throat at the rendition of their vows and he squeezed his mate wordlessly, unable to form a response. After all these years, Gadreel could still render him speechless with promises of his love._

_Seeming to understand Balthazar’s silence, Gadreel merely smiled and settled down once more, leaning into his mate’s petting. Later, they would have to ready themselves for work, but for now they could enjoy their time together._

_Maybe Balthazar could repay his mate’s affections later in the shower…_

_The memory faded to black as Balthazar awoke with a start. He flipped the lamp on hurriedly, unable to breathe through the heat spreading through his body like wildfire. His gaze flicked wildly to the other side of the bed to find it cold and empty and he scanned the room desperately, praying that he would find kind grey eyes staring back at him._

_The room was still and bare._

_He choked out a sob, stomach churning violently. He wanted to vomit but he knew nothing would pass through his lips except water; it wasn’t like he had been eating these past few days._

_The memory replayed on loop in his mind, his body seeming to remember every sensation of that morning and intensifying them until Balthazar could swear that his mate was actually with him, touching him, whispering loving words against his stomach._

_The memory had been the morning of Gadreel’s death._

_Balthazar let out a broken cry, pulling his knees to his chest. He glanced around the room at their nest – exactly the same as it had been when they had left for work together that morning. Their feathers littered the windowsills, still bright and colourful from being freshly plucked. Gadreel’s pen collection was scattered amongst Balthazar’s array of colognes on their shared dressing table. Their small assembly of toys stood proud on top of their chest of drawers, because this was their nest; their safe space and Balthazar was a bit of an exhibitionist and Gadreel had been proud to love his mate and wanted his nest to reflect that. Trinkets they had picked up over the years were scattered about the room, alongside books that had caught their attention and pieces of artwork they never tired of staring at. Pictures of the two of them lay in small, tasteful frames upon various surfaces and Balthazar had to look away from their happy faces and loving gazes._

_A bolt of pain slammed through his heart. Eventually, the feathers would lose their sheen and they would need to be disposed of before they began to decay. He would have to put their toys away because he wouldn’t be able to look at them without thinking of his dead mate's tender touches – the same could be said of Gadreel’s pens and their pictures. He would have to hide them all away if he didn’t want to become a blubbering wreck every time he glimpsed them._

_He squeezed his eyes shut and screamed._

_He screamed until his voice was hoarse and tears streamed down his face, until his cheeks were red and blotchy and the room reeked of his distress. Then he grabbed Gadreel’s pillow and buried his face against it, breathing in the last lingering scents of a mate he would never see again. They had faded over the past few days and the thought made him cry harder._

_Gadreel had been so frightened. In so much pain. He had gazed up at Balthazar, pleading him to save him. Throat slit from ear to ear, blood seeping between Balthazar’s fingers. Gadreel had died a slow, meaningless death._

_Balthazar curled around his mate’s pillow and clutched at his chest as his heart tore itself in two._

_He didn’t know how he was going to survive this._

_*             *             *_

_Two weeks had passed since Gadreel’s death and still the alpha’s body hadn’t been released from the Host’s private morgue for burial or cremation. Castiel didn’t know why they were holding onto his friend’s corpse, but each time Balthazar’s requests for release were rejected, the beta broke a little more._

_Balthazar had surprised everyone by returning to work the day after his mate’s death and rumours had begun to spread that the beta hadn’t really cared about his mate after all. To Castiel, it was obvious that this wasn’t the case – Balthazar had returned to work because his mate was in the same building and the beta wanted to spend the final days up to his burial as close as possible to him._

_Anna had taken Balthazar off missions when it became clear that he was unfocused and forgetful. The beta could barely get through paperwork without becoming lost in his own thoughts and Castiel had lost count of the number of times he had been greeted with a sobbing Balthazar in the bathroom. He often held his friend through these outbursts, petting his wings and finding himself tongue-tied as he listened to Balthazar cry and wail himself hoarse. He had lost count of how many tears he himself had shed over his friend._

_The rest of the team put up with Balthazar drifting around the office like a lonely ghost because they knew that he didn’t know what else to do or where to go. They could offer no words of comfort or tips on what to do now because none of them were mated and any relationships they did have hadn’t lasted for fifteen years, nor had they ended in death._

_Balthazar could barely function and Castiel worried for his friend’s skinny frame and sunken eyes – he wasn’t eating. He was barely showering and if Castiel didn’t intervene soon, he was certain he would lose two friends instead of one._

_Castiel stared blankly at the report in front of him and realised it was blurry. He swiped a few tears from his eyes and clenched his fists._

_Gadreel hadn’t deserved to die. Gadreel definitely hadn’t deserved to die in pain and terror._

_He flicked his gaze up to Balthazar covertly, watching the beta sip mechanically at a coffee cup that had gone cold two hours ago. It looked as though he was reading through a report on his computer screen, but a minute flinch told Castiel that his friend was reliving his mate’s death in his head; trying to work out if there was anything he could have done; blaming himself for not saving his mate; mentally punishing himself over and over until tears pooled on the desk and he was convinced that he was to blame for Gadreel’s death. It was a cycle of thought that he had already admitted to Castiel and nothing the omega said would convince him that Balthazar couldn’t have saved him._

_Castiel watched his friend’s halo. It was always blue now. A deep, grieving blue that never wavered or flickered. Balthazar was always despairing these days. Even his feathers were beginning to fall out with stress._

_He was not the man Castiel knew._

_Castiel dropped his gaze to his own hands, an idea swirling around his head. He knew how to fix this. He could fix all of it. The question was: should he?_

_He watched tears roll down Balthazar’s cheeks and onto the desk, gaze glazed and despondent. Another once-vibrant feather fluttered to the carpet, thin and lifeless. Balthazar’s breath hitched and he suddenly gave a lung-rattling cough; the beginnings of some sort of infection._

_Castiel pursed his lips. He knew he had to do something. He couldn’t lose Balthazar as well._

_He stood abruptly and when Anna glanced at him, he gestured to the door. “Bathroom.”_

_She nodded and he slipped out of the office, the lie unnoticed._

_He headed towards the bathroom and at the last moment veered off towards the corridor that led to the security rooms. On his way he noticed one of the suites had been set up for a meeting, complete with a buffet table of cakes and finger foods. He noted the door number (S12) and quickened his pace towards the security rooms._

_The first room was empty and Castiel could hear through the thin walls that all three guards were in the second room. They had been warned before not to leave their posts unattended, but this corridor was rarely used and few people thought to check on them, so they broke the rules often in order to keep each other company – security was a lonely job._

_Castiel quietly accessed the CCTV cameras for the basement level and Stairwell B. Not knowing the system in as much depth as he would have liked, he switched the cameras off and froze the last frame of their footage on the monitors so that each display showed empty rooms and corridors._

_Then, he switched the camera off for the first and second security room, before deleting an entire month’s worth of footage for security room one to ensure that he wouldn’t be spotted tampering with the cameras._

_He took a deep breath and headed towards the second room, plastering on a mild smile when three pairs of eyes focused on him as he knocked. He entered the room and jerked a thumb over his shoulder._

_“The caterers have told me to tell you that S12 has cake and finger foods if you want any before they start the meeting. They’ve not quite finished setting up so anything you eat can be replaced,” Castiel said._

_One of the angels – a young omega with blond hair and sparkling brown eyes – grinned and elbowed his friends. “I told you Karyl is soft on us!”_

_Castiel chuckled and shrugged. “If I were you, I’d grab something before the meeting starts in…” He checked his watch. “Thirty minutes.”_

_The three young angels rose from their various chairs and desks and scuttled out of the door, smiling their thanks to Castiel as they made their way to S12._

_Castiel quickly settled at the computer and found the CCTV for the morgue. He froze the last frame and switched off the camera before scurrying out of Security and heading back towards his own office, twitching his lips at the sight of the three naïve angels obliterating the buffet table. He almost felt bad for their upcoming reprimand, but Gadreel was more important than the slap on the wrist these angels wold receive._

_As he entered his office, he wrung his hands out as though they were wet – the toilets currently had a dryer fault that made it so nobody’s hands were completely dry when they left the bathroom._

_Hannah eyed him coolly. “That took a long time,” she said under her breath._

_Castiel rolled his eyes. Their relationship had only deteriorated further over these past months and he had no time for her petty remarks._

_“Shits generally do,” he sneered, making her clamp her mouth shut in disgust and Uriel snort quietly._

_He glanced at Balthazar. The beta didn’t seem to have even registered his presence. He coughed again and stared blankly at his screen._

_Castiel’s wings drooped and he approached his friend slowly, flicking his gaze to Anna for approval. She smiled sadly and nodded, so Castiel hovered by his friend’s side and gently touched his shoulder._

_“How about we get you a drink?” Castiel asked softly. It was the team’s go-to for getting Balthazar out of the office to stretch his legs and attempt to distract him when it looked as though he was about to break down._

_Balthazar stared at him dully before sighing and rising to his feet. He seemed to understand that they were treating him like some fragile ornament but either he didn’t care or he didn’t have the energy to protest. He allowed Castiel to lead him out of the office and towards the vending machine, but frowned when the omega suddenly grabbed his sleeve and tugged him down a different corridor._

_“Castiel?” Balthazar asked quietly._

_The omega winced at the use of his full name. Balthazar never used his full name._

_“Trust me,” Castiel whispered and for the first time, Balthazar straightened a little, gaze gaining some sort of curiosity as he was guided towards Stairwell B._

_Castiel quickened their pace and checked his watch. It was nearly lunch time which meant the basement levels were about to become almost empty._

_Castiel froze as footsteps echoed from below and as a stern-looking alpha climbed up to their position, Castiel yanked Balthazar’s face to his chest and stroked his hair soothingly._

_“Sshh… it’s okay. It’s alright, he’s in a better place.”_

_The alpha glanced at him sadly – everyone had heard of Gadreel’s demise even if they didn’t particularly know him or his widowed mate. Castiel returned the expression, holding Balthazar in a headlock as the beta tried to fight his way out of the abrupt hug. The alpha continued his journey upstairs and Castiel finally released Balthazar._

_“What the f-”_

_“Sshh!” Castiel hissed as Balthazar glared at him. He grabbed the beta’s hand and yanked him down the last flight of stairs._

_“Cassie, seriously, what are we doing down here?” Balthazar griped, a bit of his old sassiness bleeding into his tone._

_Castiel waved at him to shut up as he gazed through the tiny window at the top of the door leading out of the stairwell. He watched people vacate the corridors and head to the break room for lunch and once the coast was clear, he swung the door open and hauled Balthazar through it._

_They jogged towards the morgue and Balthazar froze outside its entrance as Castiel peered inside to check that everyone had left._

_“Why have you brought me here?” Balthazar growled angrily, gripping Castiel’s arm hard enough to bruise._

_“Please, Balthazar, just trust me,” Castiel begged as he dragged the beta into the morgue before anyone spotted them._

_Balthazar jerked his arm from Castiel’s grasp. “No! Why would you bring me here? Why would you do this to me? Why would you-” His voice broke off into a sob as his gaze caught what the undertakers had been working on before they had left for their break._

_The air was nearing freezing temperatures around them, but Balthazar didn’t notice as he staggered over to the pale body of his mate._

_Gadreel was in some sort of zipped body bag, his face and chest exposed. On his covered abdomen lay a small, open file and the first page within the file held the title ‘Official Document For Release From Morgue’._

_Balthazar’s throat cracked with a sob and he draped himself over his cold mate and cried silently._

_A lump formed in Castiel’s throat as he approached Gadreel. His chest was nearly white and his lips were blue. His eyes were closed but his forehead seemed to hold some colour and Castiel brushed his fingers across his friend’s brow and glanced at the powder that coated his fingers. The undertakers were obviously dressing the body now that it had been cleared for release and it seemed as though they had just begun applying the makeup that would bring life to Gadreel’s too-still features._

_That wouldn’t be necessary, Castiel thought to himself._

_He rounded the table but startled when Balthazar suddenly grabbed his hand._

_“Why?” he snarled furiously. “Why would you show me this? Why would you bring me to him like this?”_

_Castiel swallowed thickly and shook his head, unable to stare into his friend’s agonised eyes. “If you would just wait a moment-”_

_Balthazar shoved at Castiel and the omega staggered backwards in shock._

_“Why?” Balthazar cried again, desperate and wild and confused. “Why are you doing this?”_

_Castiel’s wings flared either side of him. “Shut up, Balthazar!” he snarled angrily. “Shut up and watch!”_

_Balthazar paused and reluctantly clicked his jaw closed. He scowled at the omega and hovered by his mate’s side helplessly._

_Castiel sighed and carefully moved Gadreel’s file to the floor. He closed his eyes, willing his racing heart to slow down – he could trust Balthazar. He could trust both of them, right? They would never… He shook his head. They were his friends – they would keep his secret._

_He unzipped Gadreel’s body entirely and winced at Balthazar’s whimper. The alpha was entirely naked and Castiel averted his gaze from the lower regions out of respect for both Balthazar and Gadreel._

_He placed a hand over the open slice in Gadreel’s throat, grimacing at the texture, before focusing his grace on the wound._

_Orange sunlight coursed through Castiel’s veins, lighting his whole body like a magical fire and his eyes glowed an intense mixture of blue and orange as the flame ignited in Gadreel’s throat. Castiel slid his hand down to the alpha’s grey heart and watched the flame follow his fingers below Gadreel’s skin. It reached the alpha’s heart and suddenly sprouted off in a hundred different directions, following every tiny vein and artery and capillary until the alpha was glowing like a sparkler._

_He heard Balthazar gasp beside him as Gadreel’s wound began to seal itself and Castiel watched the alpha’s glowing heart suddenly burst into action. The orange light surged and crackled, burning even brighter and highlighting every organ and blood vessel it touched, and when the light began to dance and spark over Gadreel’s brain, Balthazar shielded his eyes, blinded by the aura._

_Gadreel bolted upright on the table, eyes flinging open and burning oranges and golds as he gasped in lungfuls of air._

_Castiel stepped away, grace quickly receding from the alpha’s body and taking the light with it. His own body returned to its natural non-glowing form and he twined his hands together and waited._

_Gadreel glanced around the room wildly, one hand immediately speeding towards his throat. He frowned in confusion at the unblemished skin and turned to Castiel, failing to notice Balthazar’s frozen, wide-eyed figure on his other side._

_“Castiel?” he croaked. “Wh- where am I?”_

_Castiel bowed his head slightly. “The morgue,” he murmured._

_Gadreel frowned again and glanced at the rows of freezer doors lining the opposite wall – many of them holding bodies of deceased agents or enemies. He glanced down at his own body bag and his apparent nakedness._

_His eyes widened and he made a distressed sound before throwing the bag over his groin and then wincing when he realised that he was sitting in a_ body bag. _He threw the body bag off himself once more._

_“I died,” he stated quietly and Castiel nodded as a wrecked noise escaped Balthazar’s throat._

_Gadreel whipped around to face his mate and his eyes widened. “Balthazar,” he breathed._

_Balthazar lunged at him and Gadreel just had enough time to swing his legs over the edge of the table and catch him. Balthazar broke down and sobbed into his mate’s cool neck and Gadreel held him tightly and wrapped him in dishevelled wings. They clutched at each other, Balthazar touching every part of Gadreel that he could reach; kissing his neck and face and chest and fisting his wings desperately._

_“You left me,” Balthazar whined. “You left me and I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t… You died… I watched you die… Held you as you bled out all over me and I couldn’t… There was nothing…” He coughed violently and Gadreel pulled him closer, whining low in his throat._

_“I’m here,” Gadreel whispered. “I’m here now. I’ll never leave you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He scented at Balthazar’s neck and rubbed his knuckles down prominent ribs._

_“I love you,” Balthazar whimpered, fingers tangling in short tufts of hair as his other hand brushed over newly-pink lips and tanned cheeks. “I love you more than anything.”_

_Gadreel held his hand and kissed each of his knuckles. “I love you too,” he breathed._

_They continued touching one another, convincing themselves of one another’s realness until the epiphany hit them at the exact same time._

_They whirled to face Castiel with wide eyes._

_“You can resurrect the dead?!” Balthazar hissed as Gadreel’s jaw hung open._

_Castiel winced and nodded._

_“Your file says your power is… is growing plants faster!” Gadreel squeaked._

_Castiel shrugged. “I lied.”_

_“Why?” they asked in unison._

_Castiel shuffled from one foot to the other. “Because if I told everyone that my power is raising the dead, do you honestly think I would be allowed out of a lab or prison cell? I would be used as a weapon. We’re at war with demons and every time one of our people died, I would be forced to resurrect them. Once they found out that all I need is a body or intact skeleton, I would be forced to raise people from dozens of generations passed. Could you imagine the chaos that would cause? The conflict?_

_“Even if the military didn’t use me, how many requests would I receive from the public wanting me to raise their dead grandmother or a murdered uncle? If I refused, what lengths would people go to ensure I helped them? Would they kidnap Samandriel? Would they force us out of our house and into hiding? What if I accidentally raised a serial killer? How could I differentiate between who I raised and who I didn’t? Is it fair of me to pick and choose?”_

_Castiel shook his head and scowled at the clinical white floor tiles. “It’s hard. I could raise animals from extinction, bring back those who were slaughtered by demons or wrongly murdered, but the repercussions of people finding out and using me as a weapon or pestering me every living moment of my life and forcing me to decide who to resurrect…” He glanced up at his friends pleadingly. “Please tell me you understand why you can’t tell anyone?”_

_Both of his friends wore worried frowns and they nodded slowly before glancing at one another._

_“We understand, Cassie, we do,” said Balthazar softly as Gadreel gestured to himself._

_“But… um… this might be hard to explain to the team.”_

_Castiel grimaced and stared at his friends sadly. “You have to leave.”_

_Gadreel’s eyes rounded in alarm. “Excuse me?”_

_“You can’t stay here,” Castiel whispered. “Even if you don’t tell people it was me, they’ll never leave you alone. You’ll be poked and prodded at and maybe even tortured until you release the information of how you were resurrected. Even if they think you don’t know, they’ll never stop running tests on you. You have to leave this place – find somewhere that doesn’t recognise your face. Change your I.D. so you can’t be traced.”_

_Gadreel scowled. “Hold on a minute – this is our home, Castiel. We can’t just up and leave everything behind!”_

_“You were dead!” Castiel snapped. “Ten minutes ago, you weren’t even breathing! Your home was a freezer in The Host’s basement!”_

_“That doesn’t make leaving our home and friends behind any easier!” Gadreel hissed. “I have lived in this zone all of my life! I can’t just go!”_

_Castiel ran a nervous hand through his hair. “Gadreel, please! I shouldn’t have raised you in the first place but I did because you’re my friend and Balthazar was a broken mess without you, but if anyone finds out… If anyone even_ suspects _that I can bring lives back… I become not only a valuable weapon for our side – I become a sought-after hostage for the demons! If I’m captured and forced to bring demons back-”_

_“You wouldn’t,” huffed Gadreel. “You’re too loyal.”_

_“I would if they threatened Samandriel!” Castiel snarled. “I would do it in a heartbeat!”_

_Gadreel snapped his mouth shut and Castiel’s gaze turned beseeching._

_“There are too many variables. Too many opportunities for disaster. I don’t want you to leave; it pains me to think that after just getting you back, I have to lose both you and Balthazar, but I can’t… I can’t let anyone find out about my power.”_

_“We’ll leave,” Balthazar said suddenly and Gadreel stared at him in shock._

_“Balth-”_

_“Cassie’s right,” insisted Balthazar. “He trusted us to keep his ability a secret and he returned you to me. The least we can do is protect him.”_

_“…Everything we have is here,” whispered Gadreel, defeatedly. “Our friends, our work, our home… We’ll lose everything.”_

_Balthazar shook his head and cupped his mate’s cheek. “Not everything. We can draw all the money out of our bank. We’ll have enough to rent some crappy one-bed bungalow in some backward village in the middle of nowhere. We’ll have enough for food and a bit left over for bills. We’ll find new jobs.” His gaze softened. “And more importantly, we’ll have each other. It’s more than I’ve had these past two weeks.” He closed his eyes and leaned their heads together. “I can live without that other stuff, but I can’t function without you. I can’t eat or sleep or work without you, Gadreel.”_

_Gadreel was quiet for a few moments, hands coming to rest over his mate’s. Then he slowly nodded. “Okay,” he muttered. “For Castiel.”_

_Balthazar’s lips tugged into a smile and both mates turned to the shuffling omega._

_“Alright,” Gadreel choked. “We’ll leave.”_

_Castiel smiled even as his heart shattered. He swiped a few tears from his eyes and fumbled for his phone. “I’ll uh… I’ll call a taxi.” He glanced at the scrubs hanging on the wall. They looked clean-ish. “Gadreel, you might want to put some clothes on.”_

_Balthazar smoothly snatched the scrubs from their hooks as Gadreel’s cheeks burned red. Castiel scowled at his phone._

_“No signal,” he mumbled, wings beginning to flap. “I’ll uh… I’ll have to go upstairs and call.” He fished around for his wallet and thrust a large sum of cash into Balthazar’s hand. “Wherever you want to go… This will probably cover the fees. Or at least most of them? I don’t know, I’ve never travelled that far in a taxi before. I can get some more if-”_

_Balthazar dragged the trembling omega into his arms and held him tightly._

_“Thank you,” Balthazar whispered._

_Castiel’s wings shook violently and he clutched at Balthazar’s shoulders. He was losing his best friends – one of them for the second time._

_“I’m sorry,” he whimpered because this was his fault. If he could just stop being so selfish for one blasted minute-_

_Gadreel’s arms slid around him as well and he choked out a sob because he had expected the alpha to be angry with him for kicking him out of the only home he had ever known. Gadreel should be screaming at him and cursing him and snarling at him._

_“I’m going to miss you, Castiel,” Gadreel mumbled and he sounded sincere._

_Castiel’s breaths hitched and he clutched at both of his friends._

_“I’m going to miss you both,” Castiel whimpered._

_“Come with us,” suggested Balthazar and at first Castiel shook his head, but then he paused._

_Was there actually anything stopping him from following his friends? His work didn’t hold the same appeal now that Hannah was always snarky with him and Balthazar and Gadreel wouldn’t be there to make him laugh. He hated his house and the zone he lived in and being an omega didn’t afford him many friends besides Gadreel and Balthazar._

_“I would have to get Samandriel,” Castiel said after a silent minute. “Pull him out of school, sell the house.”_

_Balthazar and Gadreel were quiet with surprise and Castiel pulled away to look at them, wings twitching as a plan began to form in his mind._

_“You’d have to leave now but I could sell up and meet you later. It won’t be a lot of money but I’ll pool it and it might help? I could even bring your things. No one would question me moving house or leaving the job. I’d blame it all on my break-up with Hannah and losing Gadreel. I… I could come with you…”_

_Balthazar’s face brightened for the first time in two weeks. His wings fluttered and he scented Castiel’s neck happily, making the omega laugh._ _Gadreel cocooned them all in his messy wings and nuzzled them both as they leaned into him._

_“Come with us,” Gadreel said, excitement in his tone as his fingers automatically wormed their way into Castiel’s wings for a brief groom. “You and Samandriel.”_

_“We could be a family,” murmured Balthazar, hiding his face between Castiel and Gadreel’s larger forms. “Father, son, and the two weird uncles.” He huffed a laugh and the sound brought joy to Castiel’s heart; it had been too long since he had heard his friend laugh._

_“Okay,” agreed Castiel, holding onto the only two friends that had stuck with him through his highest and lowest points. The only family he considered worth having. “I’m coming with you.”_

_Balthazar and Gadreel made sounds of triumph and they scented and nuzzled him until he huffed out a laugh and pulled away._

_“You have to go now before anyone sees,” Castiel said, suddenly serious. “But I’ll meet you once I’ve dealt with everything here. Call me once you’ve settled. Or write. I’ll come find you. I’ll bring Samandriel and anything you want from your house. I’ll bring money, anything you need.”_

_Balthazar pushed Castiel’s money back into his hands. “We’ll take our car. It’s parked out back. Tell everyone I’ve quit, or I couldn’t hack it or something. Tell them I’m not coming back.” He grabbed Gadreel’s hand and squeezed it adoringly._

_Gadreel fixed Castiel with a determined look. “Your secret is safe with us, Cas. Promise.”_

_Castiel grinned. It was such a relief to see Gadreel’s grey gaze shining and full of life. “I know.”_

_Balthazar grabbed one of his hands and held it tight. “We’ll see you soon.”_

_Castiel nodded and slid the money back into his friend’s palm. “Take it. Just in case.”_

_Balthazar’s gaze softened and he kissed his friend’s cheek in gratitude before dragging Gadreel towards the door urgently. They paused just before leaving and turned to the lone omega._

_“You’ll really meet us?” Gadreel asked quietly, hopefully._

_Castiel nodded. “You’re the only family Samandriel and I have. We can’t lose you.”_

_Gadreel’s wings wiggled and Balthazar beamed before the pair scurried out of the door. Castiel glanced back at the table Gadreel had originally lay on and grasped his release papers, stuffing them into his pocket. Then he cleaned the table and folded the body bag up and tucked it under his arm, ready to throw it into the dumpster outside._

_With any luck, the undertakers would just think the body had been taken early._

_Castiel slipped out of the room and headed up Stairwell B just before break ended._

*             *             *

In the two weeks that followed, Jack accompanied Samandriel home often. The pair could be found either playing with the animals, or challenging each other to games inside the house. If Dean raised an eyebrow at them, they would pretend to do their homework until he left the room.

There were no more incidents between Castiel and Jack, but Castiel didn’t exactly go out of his way to communicate with the little demon; preferring to avoid him and keep a subtle eye on the pair from a distance in case Samandriel required assistance. Jack appeared wary of the older angel, but it didn’t stop him from sleeping over in Samandriel’s room on the weekends, no matter how uncomfortable it made Castiel. Samandriel was just happy to have a friend like Jack and he wished his father would understand how kind and sincere the demon was.

Castiel’s discomfort at Jack’s presence was quickly pushed aside however when Victor began to request Castiel’s presence at the station. Dean and his colleagues had formulated a plan to reveal the leaders of the Red Devils and their locations and they wanted Castiel to know the details inside out before he even thought about stepping foot in any sort of distribution centre. Plus, the omega was smart and he was skilled at ironing out the finer intricacies of the mission – he was a great asset to the team and Dean couldn’t help but smile with pride as Victor began to look at Castiel with something akin to admiration in his gaze.

The night before the plan was to go ahead, Dean found himself straddling the omega, the bed covers wrapped around them and a single dim lamp the only thing chasing away the surrounding shadows.

Their lips sought one another out and Dean traced over scarred skin with gentle fingers as an eager hand tangled into his hair. Tongues slid together wetly and Dean allowed the angel to claim his mouth, enjoying the heat radiating from Castiel’s shirtless chest.

Castiel was reluctant to bare his scars to Dean, but the alpha didn’t believe it was because the angel didn’t trust him. He was fairly certain that Castiel trusted him not to hurt him, but the scars themselves were something that his angel was ashamed of. He hated showing Dean his ‘ugliness’; hated how the scars were proof of the countless alphas and betas that had used his body before Dean. He hated that they were a reminder of his past helplessness and he wished Dean didn’t have to see that side of him; wished the alpha had met him before he had broken, before he had lost his voice.

What Castiel hadn’t quite grasped was that Dean didn’t see him as broken. The scars were not proof of his helplessness in Dean’s eyes – instead, they were proof of his strength and determination to survive.

Dean had seen what happened to the omegas that left the Red Devils’ care. Before he had met Castiel, the omegas that the police found were always dead or dying. None of them lasted more than a week and few were found at all. Castiel hadn’t only survived, he had protected his young son as well. The angel was truly amazing.

Here, hidden by bed covers and darkness, Castiel had finally allowed himself to be shirtless and Dean was intent on showing his angel exactly how much he admired him.

He pulled away from Castiel’s lips to mouth at his neck and then kissed his collar bone adoringly, nuzzling the scars that resided there. His fingertips traced burns with the sort of reverence reserved for a precious jewel and Castiel shuddered beneath his touch, overwhelmed by the sensation of Dean worshipping his skin with slow, open-mouthed kisses.

The alpha disappeared beneath the covers, sliding lower down Castiel’s body to pepper his stomach with kisses and at first, the omega tensed and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder as if to stop him from looking upon his skin, but Dean curled his fingers around his angel’s hips and held him securely as he painted his belly with devoted kisses, and Castiel blew out a shaky breath and released him.

Dean trailed his lips to Castiel’s hand, kissing each fingertip before slowly moving over his palm and wrist and up his arm before reversing the process for the other arm.

He huffed out a laugh when Castiel suddenly yanked him into a deep, needy kiss and he relaxed onto the omega, enjoying the feeling of their bare chests brushing together. Castiel’s fingers tugged lightly at his hair as his other hand smoothed over his spine, exploring Dean in much the same way as Dean was mapping out the angel’s body.

Dean hummed with happiness as Castiel nuzzled and scented his neck and he chuckled when the angel wrapped him in his wings possessively and suddenly flipped their positions. Dean traced Castiel’s jaw with a single finger and watched the angel tilt his head curiously as he slid long fingers over Dean’s chest and stomach, memorising every dip and curve and muscle twitch.

He kneeled above Dean, gazing at the alpha’s relaxed body with a sort of awed curiosity, so Dean let him look and rubbed the omega’s thighs idly. Tentatively, Castiel reached out and circled one of Dean’s nipples with a thumb and Dean closed his eyes in pleasure, content to allow the angel to play. A smile touched Castiel’s lips and he raked his fingers down Dean’s sides and settled them on his hips. He leaned down to press his lips to the alpha’s stomach and Dean sighed happily and stroked his omega’s hair with one hand, squeezing his thigh with the other.

Castiel peppered kisses over his stomach before moving to his chest and Dean rumbled when the angel abruptly sucked at a nipple. Castiel drew himself upright again to watch Dean’s stunned expression and a grin erupted over his face. He ducked down again and lapped at the little nub before wrapping his lips around it once more.

Dean made an approving sound low in his throat and Castiel shifted to offer the other nipple the same treatment. After a few moments, Dean fisted the angel’s hair and drew him into a messy kiss and Castiel smiled against his lips. Dean curled his fingers around the omega’s halo experimentally and tugged, and Castiel suddenly fell against him, boneless and nuzzling at his neck affectionately.

Dean rolled them onto their sides, wrapping one arm around his omega as his other hand toyed with the halo glowing a joyous gold. It was a consistency unlike any other – not quite solid but definitely not just a ring of light either. It sort-of phased through his fingers when he wasn’t concentrating, but if he focused on holding it, it felt warm and real against his palm. He tugged at it again and it slid backwards, seeming to tilt Castiel’s head back with it and the angel inhaled sharply, eyes falling shut as his halo flashed brighter.

Dean rumbled with approval and mouthed at his angel’s exposed throat, pulling lightly on the halo every time Castiel attempted to right his head position. After the fifth jerk, Castiel’s hands snaked around the alpha and clawed down his back before hooking under his arms and drawing him closer.

Dean growled with encouragement and scraped his teeth over the angel’s neck, making Castiel pant softly. He grabbed the omega’s thigh with his spare hand and pulled until Castiel hooked his leg around Dean’s waist.

Wings tightened around Dean’s body, cocooning angel and human together, and Dean slackened his grip on the omega’s halo so they could share a filthy kiss complete with tongues and teeth.

Bodies pressed closer and Dean began to drown in the scents of vanilla, sea salt and mandarin, yet the last thing he wanted was to be saved. They pulled apart for air and Dean immediately buried his nose in Castiel’s neck, inhaling deeply as the angel clutched at his back almost desperately. He pushed the omega onto his back and wrapped his body around Castiel’s, pulse racing as he placed a knee between Castiel’s legs and the angel responded by hooking one leg tighter around his hips.

The tiny gap between their bodies was obliterated when Castiel yanked Dean onto him and bared his throat further as he scraped his nails over the alpha’s back.

“Mine,” growled Dean as he sucked and kissed Castiel’s throat. “You’re mine.” He could feel Castiel’s heart beating against his chest, could taste the desperation and adoration pouring from Castiel’s skin. He could feel the heat of Castiel’s body seeping into his, could smell their scents intertwining as though they belonged together.

Castiel’s hands burned hot against his back and he never wanted the angel to stop touching him. One hand slid into Dean’s hair, nails scraping at his scalp in an addictive grip.

Dean claimed the angel’s mouth eagerly, smirking when Castiel kissed back just as roughly. He tugged sharply at the angel’s halo and felt Castiel arch his back beneath him.

How Castiel thought he was ugly; Dean would never understand.

He repeated the movement and when Castiel arched his back this time, Dean surged downwards to worship the omega’s chest with his lips, holding the angel in position by slipping a supportive hand around the curve of his back. Castiel watched him hungrily as he laved his tongue over the omega’s scarred chest and when Dean sucked at a nipple, Castiel’s head flopped backwards, a silent groan leaving his lips.

“Freakin’ gorgeous,” hissed Dean as he kissed Castiel’s ribs one by one. “Beautiful,” he whispered as he moved down Castiel’s left set of ribs. His fingers curled into raven feathers and Castiel writhed beneath him

“Sexy,” breathed Dean, smashing their lips together once more. Hands swept over skin, clawing, squeezing, claiming… “So hot,” growled Dean. “You have no idea what you do to me…”

Quiet gasps, breathy pants, hands clutching at hair and shoulders and wings and halos, legs tangled together or hooked around hips, bodies arching into one another…

Castiel yanked Dean into another kiss, thrusting his tongue into the alpha’s mouth as Dean buried a hand in the omega’s wing. Their bodies slid together as they ravished each other’s mouths and Dean felt Castiel’s erection digging into his thigh before he even realised that he was sporting one of his own.

With an interested rumble, he pushed Castiel further into the mattress and slid the hand that wasn’t immersed in a black wing between them. He knew that sex was very much off the table, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t make his angel feel good.

His hand slid lower and lower until he could cup the angel through his sleepwear and at first Castiel stiffened, but then Dean slowly rubbed the stiff, cotton-enclosed bulge and Castiel’s breath hitched and he held Dean’s head down so he could thoroughly dominate the alpha’s mouth.

Hands resumed roaming over sweat-slicked skin and silky wings and after a few minutes, Castiel began rolling his hips into Dean’s palm, so the alpha quickened his strokes.

One of Castiel’s hands settled over Dean’s ass and the alpha’s eyebrows rocketed skywards when the omega carefully guided his hips downwards, encouraging Dean to rut against his thigh. Dean broke their kiss to eye the angel critically. He had no intention of making his omega uncomfortable, but Castiel merely met his gaze and Dean was stunned by the lack of fear in his features. If anything, the angel’s gaze was a little glassy; chest heaving with eagerness.

Dean sealed their lips together and rocked against Castiel’s thigh, fingers curving around the angel’s encased dick as he explored a twitching wing. The omega squeezed Dean’s ass with each thrust, breaths crescendoing as the alpha rubbed faster.

Castiel arched abruptly as Dean suddenly broke free of his lips to suck at a nipple and the omega’s breath punched out of him as he clawed at Dean’s body, pressing his dick further into the alpha’s palm. Then he collapsed back onto the bed, breaths shaky and cheeks blazing cherry red.

Dean growled and mouthed at his jaw as a damp stickiness brushed against his palm. “Like I said,” he whispered as Castiel shied away from his gaze. “Freakin’ sexy.”

It was the scent of Castiel’s release that did it for Dean. He hadn’t come in his pants for a long, long time but the smell of Castiel’s pleasure combined with the sensation of Castiel’s hand squeezing his ass as he rutted against the omega’s thigh was enough for Dean to find his own release.

He settled onto the angel, one arm wrapped around him, legs tangled together, face tucked into his neck, and free hand still splayed over the angel’s wet crotch. Castiel hesitated but didn’t seem inclined to move Dean and the alpha purred when his omega cocooned him in his wings and wrapped one arm around him whilst the other remained filled with Dean’s ass cheek.

A minute passed in amiable silence before Castiel threw a leg over Dean’s hip and nestled into the pillows. Dean chuckled and kissed his neck. His angel was definitely a cuddler.

“You okay?” Dean asked quietly.

Castiel nodded, pressing his lips against Dean’s head with a smile. Dean sighed lazily and closed his eyes.

“So handsome,” he hummed against his angel’s neck. “Strong. Brave. Clever.”

Castiel stroked his back silently as he listened to Dean’s string of compliments.

“Curious. Kind. Protective. Gentle.”

Dean kissed his shoulder lightly. “Stubborn,” he teased. “Sassy. Hard-headed. Sarcastic. Friggin’ assho- Ow!”

He laughed when Castiel narrowed a glare at him, hand hovering over his ass threateningly.

He suddenly surged upwards and graced his angel’s cheek with a wet, sloppy kiss. “We should probably get some clean pants,” he said with a soft smile.

Immediately, Castiel burrowed into his chest and clung to him, pulling Dean’s body closer as he wrapped his leg more securely around the alpha’s hip. Dean chuckled.

“Or not.”

Castiel closed his eyes and Dean curled around the omega protectively, tucking his head under his chin.

“There’s still time to back out,” he whispered unhappily.

Castiel squeezed Dean’s ass until he smiled.

“Promise me you’ll be careful tomorrow? If you get into a dangerous situation or you change your mind about going through with the plan, you get out of there, okay? You get out of there and you keep running until you feel safe, right?” Dean knew he was being overprotective but he couldn’t help it. He hated the plan and he hated that Castiel had to face the life he had only just been freed of.

Castiel pressed his lips to Dean’s chest.

“I know. You were a badass, professional, super-secret agent, detective angel back on Heaven. You can handle this because you’re awesome.” Dean paused and nuzzled the omega. “And because you have an amazing boyfriend who’ll come in guns blazing if anyone even dares lay a hand on you.” He winked and he felt Castiel grin against his chest. He held the omega closer.

“Just… whatever happens, Cas… I’ll be with you every step of the way, okay? I’ll be watching and listening to everything through that camera you’ll be wearing, and I’ll be able to speak to you through your little earpiece and-”

Castiel nuzzled Dean’s chest and rubbed his back soothingly until Dean clamped his mouth shut and curled tighter around his angel.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a couple of minutes. “I just… I don’t want you to go. I… I’m scared, Cas. Scared for you.”

There was no response from the angel and Dean realised his hands had stilled. He glanced down at the omega to find his eyes closed and his lips parted a fraction, soft breaths leaving his lips. Dean smiled and smoothed a palm over a great wing. He tucked the angel under his chin and tumbled into a land of dreams.

 

*             *             *

 

The following day arrived all too quickly. By the time Dean blinked, Castiel was kitted out in his special button camera, micro-earpiece, jeans, and a Metallica T-shirt that Castiel had stolen from him that morning. Dean was secretly pleased about the shirt since he had seen the angel scenting at it in the car as they drove to the station – the idea that Castiel wanted a piece of the alpha with him made Dean’s heart sing.

Soon enough, the plan was put into action and Dean was pushed to the side-lines and made to watch as two actors readied themselves to ‘kidnap’ Castiel in broad daylight. Dean had been overlooked for the role since the court hearing had made it into the news and his face was well-recognised as one of the officers that had been associated with Ketch’s trial. Dean hated that he couldn’t even do this part for his angel, but Castiel was as understanding as ever and simply agreed to being man-handled by two strangers.

Bobby and Rufus were two retired officers that occasionally got wrangled into cases such as this when an extra pair of hands or two were required. They were both old, cranky alphas, but they had good hearts and Dean knew that Castiel was in safe hands with them even if he was upset that he couldn’t play the role himself.

The two older men placed red scarves over their mouths and noses, hoods up as they played the part of a couple of rookies looking to join the ranks of the Red Devils. Benny readied a phone camera beside Dean as they wandered amongst the shoppers of Kansas City in everyday civilian clothes, blending in with the unsuspecting crowd. Dean could see Castiel on the opposite side of the street, looking not quite relaxed but not overly nervous either as he pretended to window-shop along the high street.

Bobby and Rufus suddenly leapt out of the narrow alleyway they had been hiding in, guns waving as they grabbed Castiel and threw a bag over his head. The two alphas began to shout threats at the few people who had taken notice of the apparent kidnapping and soon, more people began to yell or point in horror as the two alphas dragged the struggling omega towards the alley they had come from.

Benny flipped the camera on and took a recording of the scene as Rufus fired a few blanks into the crowd of people attempting to stop him from escaping. The crowd backed off and Castiel struggled harder, wings flapping as Bobby hauled him into the alleyway with a snarl.

Some people began to film the kidnapping, others calling the police and one brave teen even tried to snatch at Rufus’ mask to reveal his face, but Rufus elbowed him away and took off with Bobby, Castiel wedged between them as the omega only half-struggled to escape.

Benny ended the recording and quickly uploaded the video to social media using a generic account under the name of ‘Joe Smith’. The goal for today was to get the attention of the Red Devils and also test run the camera and microscopic earpiece Castiel was wearing. The police were hoping that the kidnapping would look like a couple of amateurs attempting to prove themselves to the Red Devils – as though they were looking to become members. The next step would be to release the contact info of a burner phone – a rookie mistake for any real member of the elusive Red Devils, but certainly a possible course of action for an amateur.

Later that evening, Dean would comment on Benny’s video under the account name ‘BitchWrangler’ (and didn’t that just make him grimace?) leaving a phone number and comment of ‘Red D’s message ya boiz for da goodzzzzz!!!’ It was certainly risky and there was a chance that the Red Devils would merely scoff at the brazen plea for attention. However, there was also a chance that they wouldn’t and once everyone returned to the station, it was a waiting game to see if they would garner a response.

Dean glanced up as a black van sped around the corner and up the high street, forcing pedestrians to jump out of the way. Bobby and Rufus had orders to take Castiel back to the station once they had made their ‘getaway’ in the van.

Benny glanced at him and nodded to the squad car, signalling the end of the job, and Dean slid into the driver’s seat as Benny finished his upload.

They startled as Bobby and Rufus raced towards them, faces unmasked and bruises circling their eyes and jaws. They looked panicked as they crossed the street, nearly getting flattened by a tour bus, which honked at them as they stumbled over the road.

They staggered to a halt, faces flushed and chests heaving as Benny and Dean exited the car, and Dean felt a sense of nausea easing his way into his stomach as he slowly looked towards where the black van had vanished around a bend.

“Bobby? Rufus? You alright?” Benny asked in alarm as he started towards the pair.

“They’ve got Castiel,” Bobby wheezed.

Dean inhaled sharply. “Who?” he demanded. “Who’s got Cas?”

“The Devils!” Rufus snapped, holding his side.

Bobby shook his head apologetically. “We didn’t see ‘em. They were waitin’ for us in the alleyway. Don’t know how they knew. Two young alphas. Hit us with bats or somethin’ and nabbed Castiel.”

A growl tore from Dean’s throat and Benny placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “They took the van?” Benny asked and when Rufus and Bobby nodded, he shoved Dean towards the squad car. “We can track it. Come on, let’s go!”

Dean must have broken a dozen speed laws as he raced towards the station. Benny had radioed ahead and the team was already gathered around a monitor, tracking a little red dot as it sped West.

“We have to stop them,” Dean barked, fist clenched around the car keys, but Victor waved a hand at him and instead moved to another monitor. He did something that Dean couldn’t really follow in such an emotional state and suddenly, a live feed of the inside of a van appeared, muffled voices floating through the computer speakers.

Victor plugged in a small desk microphone and clicked a few buttons before leaning towards it.

“Castiel, can you hear me?”

A thumb appeared on-screen.

“Cas!” Dean cried, lurching forwards to operate the button on the microphone. “Cas! Are you alright? Did they hurt you? What happened? Stay right where you are and I’ll come get you-”

Dean snapped his mouth shut when Castiel removed the bag over his head and reached into his pocket with unbound hands. He retrieved a pad of sticky notes and a tiny pen and Victor chuckled in disbelief as Castiel began to write.

 

_Hello, Dean. Chief Henriksen. I am fine. A little ‘roughed up’, but nothing serious. How are Officers Singer and Turner? I heard the commotion but didn’t have time to help before I was grabbed._

“Bobby and Rufus are alright,” said Victor with an amused shake of his head as Dean practically vibrated beside him with stress. “Can you identify who grabbed you?”

 

_I’m afraid not. Whilst Officer Singer didn’t tie the bag over my head or bind my wrists, I was fearful that displaying my freedom in front of the criminals would only hinder my efforts to communicate with you. They were masked but I could smell their alpha designations as well as their nervousness. I have a feeling that this may be their first kidnapping – which would explain why they appeared ready to ambush us. This all seems very improvised. I believe they saw an opportunity and they took it without thinking it through._

Benny appeared by Dean’s side, startling him. “You think they know where the distribution centre is?” Benny mused. “Or at least where to find these Devils?”

Victor shrugged a shoulder and spoke into the microphone once more. “Listen, Castiel… you think you can roll with this? I know it’s a change in plan but maybe this is better. They might lead you straight to the Red Devils, which is more than we can do right now. Rest of the plan as before, right? Find out where you are and who’s in charge, then we bust you out of there. Think you can do all that?”

Dean stiffened and scowled at his boss. “Now wait just a minute,” he hissed. “Cas can’t be expected to be shoved around by these guys without any back-up or support or- or-”

He was interrupted by Castiel holding up a new note.

 

_Of course, Chief._

A second note replaced the first.

 

_Relax, Dean. I am not without support – I have you and the rest of the station. I used to do this sort of thing for a living, remember?_

Dean deflated and leaned towards the microphone. “Well… yeah… but this is different. These guys are cruel and sadistic and twisted and they’ve done horrible things to you in the past.”

 

_I’m not fragile. You have seen the worst of me – the parts of me that were terrified and distrusting, but I wasn’t always like that and that isn’t who I am now. Before, I had Samandriel to look out for, but he is safe this time and I only have myself to look out for. Before, I had no one to support me, no one on my side, but this time I have the entire Kansas police department keeping an eye on me. And you, Dean, you give me a reason to complete this mission. I’m looking forward to returning home to you and my son and our ridiculous farm, so I’m determined to complete this mission and hopefully prove myself as a competent agent of Eden’s host to you and your friends._

Dean stared at the screen, lost for words as Victor smiled and responded, “You have nothing to prove to us, Cas. The fact that you’re doing this at all is proof enough you’re better than most of the idiots in here.” He winked at his team as they grumbled at him good-naturedly. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

 

_Understood, Chief._

Dean’s shoulders sagged as he stared at the monitor. He didn’t like any of this plan but he didn’t want to coddle the omega either. Castiel had been good at his job in Eden and Dean knew that the angel loved this sort of work, but all the alpha could think of was the scars he had worshipped last night, the fear in Castiel’s gaze in the early days of their meeting, the horror stories Castiel had told him of his past when the darkness blanketed them…

Castiel shouldn’t have to face this again.

Benny’s hand fell onto his shoulder and Dean looked up into his friend’s warm gaze. “This won’t be as bad for him as you think. He needs this. He needs to know that it’s over; that no one else will ever go through what he has. Imagine how he’s going to feel when he’s the one who stops it?”

Dean mulled Benny’s words over in his mind for a long moment before arching an eyebrow. Maybe the other alpha was right…

“What if we don’t stop it? What if it goes South? The Feds are already breathing down our necks because they don’t want us involved… What if they’re right and we can’t stop this?” Dean asked.

Benny quirked his lips upwards. “Have a little faith in your omega.” Benny’s gaze flicked up to the monitor. “He’s calmer than the rest of us and we’re not the ones in the van.”

Dean licked his lips and watched the live feed. Benny was right – Castiel did indeed seem calm. He needed to trust his angel.

He pressed the button on the microphone. “Come back home safe, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully there will be a lot of plotty chapters from now onwards! So... what do you guys think of Cas' power?


	22. Hold Your Enemies Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at end

_Hannah watched Castiel and Balthazar leave the office, a frown creasing her brow. Castiel had always favoured Balthazar and Gadreel over her even when they were together. She couldn’t understand why an omega would suck up to two alphas like that; why he would answer their every beck and call like some desperate child seeking approval. Couldn’t he see that they were part of the problem? Couldn’t he see that alphas were what was wrong with this world?_

_Omegas birthed children and kept the household stable. They cleaned and cooked and washed and smiled through it all even when they were weeping on the inside, merely to keep their children and mates happy. They were just as intelligent and strong as alphas, if not more, yet it was always the alpha who was regarded as the boss, the leader. Why? Omegas worked twice as hard as any alpha – all alphas did was bring money home and omegas were quite capable of doing that if the alphas of the world would only allow them to._

_The Host was a place for omegas to prove that they were just as adept, if not more so, at detective and agent work as the alpha-run forces. It had been set up by omegas, for omegas, but now the place was crawling with alphas like Gadreel and Balthazar._

_Hannah curled her mouth in disgust as she glanced at the sorrowful faces of Uriel and Anna. They pitied Balthazar because of the death of his mate, but honestly Hannah thought it was karma. Balthazar could pretend that he was a beta all he liked, but the truth was that he had been born with a knot, which made him an alpha. An alpha who had mated another alpha. Hannah thought it repulsive._

_Omegas were different, as were betas. Omegas could mate other omegas just as betas could mate other betas – it was quite natural for those who were oppressed to seek out one another’s company. Omegas in particular did far better with other omegas, in Hannah’s humble opinion – they were happier and less afraid of the world._

_Alphas who mated other alphas only wanted to display their dominance. They did it to intimidate the ‘lower’ designations into submitting to them. There was no real love between alpha couples – just a mutual desire for power and wealth. Their coupling wasn’t sustainable, which meant that Balthazar’s tears and glazed expression were all part of a sickening façade to make everyone feel sorry for him and hopefully get him out of work. Hannah knew what the alpha was doing; she wasn’t stupid like Castiel._

_Hannah shook her head, attempting to calm her stormy thoughts. She needed a drink so she could focus on her work and prove that she was more useful to The Host than any alpha could ever hope to be._

_She stood and ambled to the drinks machine in the main lounge, hoping that Balthazar and Castiel would be finished by the time she reached it. She cocked an eyebrow however, when she realised that Castiel and Balthazar were absent._

_She shrugged and shoved a few coins into the machine, selecting a strong, hot drink that would hopefully clear her head. She watched an almost-black liquid trickle into a flimsy paper cup, steam rising from its murky depths._

_The machine bleeped and she sipped at the drink, grimacing as the liquid burned her lips. She blew on it and sipped at it again, closing her eyes in relief._

_The lounge was peaceful when so few angels were working in it and she shuffled to a floor-to-ceiling-length window and leaned against it as she basked in the quiet. It was nice to get away from all the sad and grieving scents clogging up the office._

_She closed her eyes, the cup warming her hands - a distinct contrast to the cool glass of the window pressed against her cheek. After a few minutes, she took a long swig from the cup, emptying it of its contents before tossing it into a bin. She would have made her way back to the office but movement from the window caught her eye and she glanced through it, down at the ground outside._

_She tilted her head at the two people lingering by one of the rarely-used side doors. One of them wore what appeared to be hospital scrubs and the other…_

_The other looked very much like Balthazar._

_Hannah frowned and grabbed her phone, opening the camera and zooming in on the two figures. What were they doing? Why were they looking around themselves almost nervously?_

_The Balthazar look-alike suddenly pointed East and grabbed his companion’s hand, and the pair sprinted around the building to the huge car park at the back. Hannah snapped a few shots of them before they disappeared, and zoomed into one that had a clear profile of both figures’ faces._

_The rainbow-winged one was definitely Balthazar, but the one in scrubs… was that…?_

_Her phone tumbled from her grip as her eyes widened. She snatched the device up and took a second look, inhaling sharply as her suspicions were confirmed._

_How? How could he be alive? His decaying corpse had been in a freezer for two weeks!_

_Hannah swivelled on her heel and bustled towards the office, only to pause. What was she supposed to do now? Tell her boss that her colleague had risen from the dead? What would it achieve?_

_A thought struck her. What had resurrected Gadreel? Would he know? Would Balthazar know how his mate had been revived?_

_Hannah glimpsed Castiel’s empty desk through the window._

_In all their years together, Castiel had never once demonstrated his power to her. His file said that he sped up the life cycle of plants so they flowered faster, but Hannah had never once seen him utilise that ability. Even when she had asked him to give her an example, he had shied away from the request and told her that it was a useless power and he was embarrassed by its insignificance._

_Hannah knew there had been something wrong with that reaction. He had lied to her. He had never truly trusted her and that meant that she could never trust him. Trust was the whole reason their mating had broken down; Hannah had trusted Castiel to keep his word about dumping that stupid baby, but Castiel had broken his promise as well as her trust in him. Castiel was the reason they had ended so terribly._

_Hannah walked into the office as calmly as she could with these new thoughts bouncing around her skull and when Castiel entered the office ten minutes later without Balthazar, Hannah narrowed her eyes._

_“Balthazar’s gone home,” Castiel sighed and Hannah could hear the lies oozing from his tongue. “I… I don’t think he’s coming back.”_

_Anna blinked in surprise. “Is he alright? Do I need to send someone to check on him?”_

_Castiel shook his head as Hannah internally scoffed at her boss’ naïve mentality. Couldn’t she see that Castiel was a liar?_

_“I’ve had a long talk with him and I think he wants to leave,” said Castiel quietly. “I don’t think he can keep coming back here when there are so many memories associated with these walls. He told me that looking at Gadreel’s empty desk every day is slowly killing him. He can’t face the pity in our eyes any longer. He wants to leave, go somewhere different where he won’t be reminded of what he’s lost every waking minute of his day.”_

_Castiel’s voice was too steady, too factual for Hannah to believe that he had no idea about Gadreel’s apparent resurrection. She focused on his wings and after a few moments, realised they were vibrating very minutely – so minutely that Uriel and Anna wouldn’t be able to see it at their distance from him. Her eyes widened. He was excited about something. What was he excited about?_

_Anna’s brows drew together sadly. “I understand,” she murmured. “It must be hard for him.”_

_Castiel nodded slowly and approached his desk, touching Gadreel’s desk in a false show of respect. Hannah grit her teeth._

_“Expect a letter,” Castiel mumbled. “I don’t think he’s up to talking.”_

_Hannah stared at her desk as she tried to piece the puzzle together. Gadreel was alive but clearly no one was supposed to know about that. Balthazar was quitting his job, obviously to be with his revived mate, but he didn’t want to come back to the office to tell Anna he was quitting, nor did he want to call her on the phone. Was that because he wanted to plan his words carefully or was it because he didn’t want anyone to physically see him? Maybe he was worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep the mourning act up? Or maybe he didn’t want anyone to know where he was?_

_Maybe he was going somewhere? Castiel had said that he wanted to leave and find somewhere different… maybe he was telling the truth about that. After all, if Gadreel had been raised from death’s clutches, imagine what that could mean for everyone else who had died? All the soldiers and dead relatives and murder victims… they could all be saved!_

_Hannah’s eyes brightened. Some of the strongest and fiercest omegas of all time could be brought back – Athena, who had fought against omega slavery; Iris, who had given omegas the right to earn money; Solus, who had protested the law that stated alphas could kill their omega children if an alpha was born after them; Amara, who had slaughtered hundreds of alphas and betas merely to show the world that omegas were just as powerful…_

_Hannah eyed Castiel hungrily. If her suspicions were correct, Castiel could do a lot for their designation._

_She tilted her head slightly. If Balthazar and Gadreel were leaving, then shouldn’t Castiel be upset? He was joined at the hip to those two fools… why was he excited?_

_Unless… unless he was going to join them? What was actually keeping him here anyway if those two left? He hated where he lived, he hated the journey to work, he hated her… There was Samandriel, but the brat would go wherever Castiel went._

_Her eyes widened in alarm. Castiel couldn’t leave! She needed him! The omegas of Eden needed him!_

_She pursed her lips. She was getting ahead of herself. This was all superstition and what-ifs. She needed proof._

_The question was: how would she get it?_

_*             *             *_

_In the end, the simplest and easiest plan proved most effective._

_And most devastating._

_It had been a week since Gadreel and Balthazar had left and Castiel had been working behind the scenes to tie up all the loose ends, send a letter of resignation from what appeared to be Balthazar, pull Samandriel from school and register him as being home-taught, order a moving van and pack all of Balthazar and Gadreel’s belongings into it, sell his crappy apartment to the local, knife-wielding drug dealer looking for a hub to trade in, and just manage to stuff his and Samandriel’s few belongings into the van alongside his friends’._

_He had received a payphone call from Gadreel and Balthazar the previous evening and today would be his last day with The Host before he ran away to join his friends in Arylon, half way around the world._

_He was brimming with anticipation and it was a struggle to wipe the grin off his face before he entered Host HQ._

_When he arrived at the office, Anna and Uriel were standing in the middle of the floor, staring at Castiel as though they had seen a ghost. Beside them, Hannah held out her phone, a cool look on her features._

_Castiel dropped his bag at his desk and gazed at the trio warily. “Is… is everything alright?”_

_Hannah stalked over to him as Uriel and Anna struggled for words, and Castiel flinched as Hannah dropped her phone on his desk. He picked it up gently and frowned at the picture on-screen._

_His heart stopped as he stared at a week-old image of his best friends._

_“You did this,” Hannah stated, sliding the phone into her pocket before crossing her arms. “You raised him from death.”_

_Castiel blinked, mouth falling open as his palms began to sweat. “I- I didn’t even know Gadreel was… Are you certain that’s him?” He scrambled for any response he could, praying that Anna and Uriel would dismiss Hannah’s suspicions as inaccurate. All these years he had managed to keep his powers a secret… it couldn’t have been for nothing!_

_Hannah scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t play stupid, Castiel. The day you told us Balthazar resigned - you knew the real reason he didn’t want to come back, and it had nothing to do with ‘memories in the walls’. You resurrected Gadreel.”_

_Castiel shook his head, mouth dry and he cast his gaze to Anna and Uriel. “Please tell me you don’t actually believe this? The dead can’t be raised – it’s impossible! That can’t have been Gadreel!”_

_Anna bit her lip then walked over to the phone on her desk. She pressed a button and held the receiver to her ear. “Zurik? It’s Anna from Team 3. Can you send me the footage from the morgue from one ‘til two last Monday?”_

_There was a long pause and then Anna’s brows drew downwards. “What do you mean the cameras were off? Who switched them off?” A brief silence as Anna received her response. “Why didn’t you notice they were off?”_

_Castiel swallowed when he felt bile crawling up his throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to suspect!_

_Anna pursed her lips. “Then can you get me the footage from exterior camera B for the same time period?”_

_Castiel bit back a gulp. He had completely forgotten about the cameras on the outside of the building. They would definitely reveal Gadreel’s face in glorious high definition…_

_Anna placed the phone down and focused on her computer. After a couple of minutes, her mouth turned downwards and she swivelled the monitor to face the rest of the room, Gadreel’s face frozen on its screen._

_Hannah smirked triumphantly and whirled on Castiel. “You tried to turn the cameras off so no one would notice. That’s why you took a trip to the ‘bathroom’ before you whisked Balthazar out of the office.”_

_Castiel shook his head. “You sound ridiculous!” he snapped. “I can’t raise the dead!”_

_Hannah’s smirk fell into a scowl and she stormed over to a tiny plant that Castiel had only just spotted on her desk. That hadn’t been there yesterday, had it?_

_She dropped it in front of him callously. “Make it flower,” she said coldly._

_Castiel stared at the plant in dismay as Uriel and Anna crept towards him._

_“You told us that your power is growing plants faster,” sneered Hannah, throwing a hand towards the tiny shoot. “So, make it flower.”_

_Castiel licked his lips and shook his head before fixing Hannah with an angry glare. “I have nothing to prove to you, especially when you’re tossing accusations at me.”_

_Hannah scowled at him, but Anna cleared her throat until they glanced at her. The red-winged angel flicked her gaze between Castiel and the plant before taking a deep breath._

_“Make it flower, Castiel.”_

_Castiel’s eyes widened and he gaped at his boss, betrayed as a smirk crawled onto Hannah's face once more. He gazed at the plant for a long while before closing his eyes in defeat._

_“I can’t.”_

_Anna squared her jaw. “Did you resurrect Gadreel?”_

_Castiel fixed her with a pleading gaze, but her eyes were cold and hard and when Uriel glanced briefly at the handcuffs on Castiel’s desk, Castiel realised that he couldn’t trust any of them._

_“I can’t raise the dead,” he whispered, begging them to believe him._

_Hannah scoffed and grabbed the cuffs. “You’re lying.”_

_Anna snapped her gaze to Hannah in surprise, opening her mouth to scold the omega for even contemplating restraining Castiel, but Castiel knew how this would end. He knew they would want to use him – could already see it in both Hannah and Uriel’s eyes._

_He flung his wings out suddenly and hit his colleagues as hard as he could with the largest bones of each appendage. Then he hurdled his desk and shot out of the office as his team yelled after him. He considered using the stairs because the elevator would take far too long to arrive, but when he heard his teammates race after him, he grabbed a fire extinguisher and threw himself at the window, wincing as the glass shattered into large fragments around him. He threw the extinguisher back into the building, momentarily slowing his colleagues down as he soared towards his home zone, glass piercing his wings deeper with every flap._

_He flew hard and fast and by the time he reached Epsilon, he was exhausted but thankfully alone. He collapsed at the door to his apartment building and practically crawled up the stairs. He managed to unlock the door and found Samandriel waiting for him in the empty room, eyes blowing wide and horrified at the blood trickling down his father’s wings and arms._

_“Papa?”_

_Castiel pulled the largest shards from his wings and brushed the blood from his skin as best he could, before gathering his son into his arms._

_“We have to go now,” breathed Castiel urgently and Samandriel seemed to understand that something was wrong, for he nodded silently and nestled into his father’s chest as Castiel snatched the van keys up and raced out of the building._

_He deposited Samandriel in the van and hopped into the driver’s side, chest heaving and body running hot. He couldn’t think properly, didn’t really know what he was doing, but he started the engine and floored the gas and didn’t slow down until they were out of Eden altogether._

_Arylon. He had to get to Arylon. His friends would know what to do._

*             *             *

                             

Samandriel had been… understandably upset when his father had revealed that he was heading out on a mission to reveal the true identities of the so-called Red Devils. The little angel had wailed and bawled and begged his father to stay at home, where he was safe from the people who had nearly broken them both.

Castiel and Dean had held him between them, petting his wings and rubbing his back and whispering (or in Castiel’s case, holding Samandriel’s hand and thinking loudly) words of comfort and reassurance. Samandriel had sobbed for _hours_ before finally calming down at the promise that Dean would be looking out for his father and that Jack could come over every afternoon that Castiel wasn’t with them. Castiel hadn’t been too pleased at that last part, but it seemed to perk Samandriel up a little, so he couldn’t complain.

Samandriel had clung to him the morning of his departure, despite believing that he was going to return that evening and, as Castiel was transferred to another van – the first being dumped in the middle of nowhere – he wondered if Samandriel would be hysterical tonight when Dean arrived home alone.

At least his son was safe. He could trust Dean to protect his fledgling.

Despite the bag over his head and the fact that he had no idea where he was, trapped in a rusting van with a couple of ill-intending alphas, Castiel felt oddly calm.

Maybe it was the idea of returning to agent work, or maybe it was the near-invisible earpiece that had been filled with station chatter for the past hour or so, but he felt strangely at ease.

“You alright, Cas?”

He smiled at the sound of Dean’s voice. He could hear the worry in his alpha’s tone. He held a thumb up in front of the camera on his jeans button. It felt weird holding sticky notes and thumbs up to his crotch, but he had to admit that it was a good hiding place for a camera. No one would suspect a Crotch Camera.

“You sure, Cas? They’ve not hurt you, have they?”

Castiel’s smile widened and he turned his thumb downwards in the negative. In all his years of life, he had never believed that he would fall for an alpha – and an alpha of a different species! Yet, when he thought of Dean, his stomach turned to butterflies and his heart tied itself in knots and all he could think of was how good of a father Dean would be to Samandriel; how doting and gentle he would be as a mate.

It was far too soon to be thinking such thoughts, especially after what he had faced at the hands of alphas – he couldn’t even provide Dean with sex without freezing up and being swallowed by a panic attack and horrifying memories – but there was something special about this particular alpha.

Castiel had never met an alpha so patient and forgiving. He had never met anyone as understanding as Dean was of him, actually. Dean went out of his way to make Castiel’s voice be heard and he had never felt afraid of Dean’s protectiveness; had never felt looked down upon or dismissed or controlled.

Sure, they had faced their hiccups along the way, but Dean listened to him despite him having no voice. Dean had treated Samandriel like his own fledgling long before he and Castiel had admitted their feelings for one another. Dean had worked hard at making himself appear non-threatening when Castiel and Samandriel had been so afraid of him, but he wasn’t scared of letting either of them know when they had messed up. It was something that Castiel hadn’t realised he had needed – a firm but reassuring hand, and after months of watching the alpha cook, and take care of the animals, and sing off-key, and read to Samandriel, and learn to laugh again after being torn apart by his ex’s betrayal… Castiel knew he was smitten with the human.

Dean never pushed him to heal quicker. Never told him to ‘get over it’ or ‘move on’. He wasn’t repulsed by Castiel’s scars and he always took Castiel into his arms whenever the angel had nightmares or got too deep into his own head. He held Castiel and he stroked his wings and told him he was safe, and Castiel believed him. He believed him because Dean never lied to him. Dean only wanted what was best for him and Samandriel, and Castiel knew he was falling too fast, but he couldn’t help it.

He shouldn’t want to even gaze upon another alpha after everything that had been done to him, yet all he could think about was Dean.

“Aww, c’mon, Dean. Give Cas some credit – guy probably has more experience than any of us in these sorts of missions.”

Castiel felt his lips twitch into a smile. He liked Benny and his relaxed outlook on life. He hadn’t doubted Cas for a single moment since meeting him the first time Victor had asked to see him at the station. In fact, Castiel quite enjoyed Victor’s company as well – level-headed and down-to-the-point, Victor treated Castiel like one of his own team and the omega hadn’t realised just how different the human police were compared to The Silver City’s equivalent. Humans actually allowed omegas to join their police ranks... and not just as secretaries or cleaners – some actually made it to Superintendent or Chief level!

Between Dean, his brother, the princes, Benny, Victor, and all of the other alpha officers who treated him like one of them, if Castiel wasn’t careful he would have to rethink his low opinion of alphas.

“I doubt that’ll stop our Dean-o from worrying about his boyfriend,” chuckled a familiar feminine voice and Castiel grinned at the addition of omega Charlie as well as Dean’s splutters of protest.

Castiel closed his eyes and leaned his head against the side of the van, letting the trio’s bickering wash over him.

A little while later, when his earpiece was silent save for the occasional murmur from Dean, the van came to a halt and Castiel steeled himself when his two kidnappers slid out of their seats and rounded the vehicle.

He had torn up the sticky notes from earlier and stuffed the shreds of paper into his back pocket, and was now holding his hands behind his back as though tied. He wasn’t sure if the alphas had worked out that he wasn’t restrained but there was no use in provoking them.

He couldn’t see them through the bag over his head, but he grimaced when they gripped his arms too tight and practically threw him out of the van.

“Why does he keep holding his arms behind his back? Does he think we’re stupid or something?” huffed one alpha in a voice that sounded like he was holding his nose as he spoke.

“Probably doesn’t realise we know those guys were cops,” hummed the other alpha in a rich, sonorous voice.

Suddenly, Castiel was shoved forwards, both arms twisted behind him painfully as the alphas gripped his wrists and began to tie a thick rope around them. Castiel swallowed. They knew Bobby and Rufus were officers?

“This has got to be some sort of trap, right though? Unless those cops were crooked?” mused the nasally voice. “We should just leave him and grab some other omega. This feels too risky.”

“You’re kidding, surely? Didn’t you see their expressions? They had no idea how to react. That was genuine confusion on their faces,” replied the second alpha.

The first alpha sounded nervous. “Then why haven’t they come after him? Or at least tried to follow us? What if… what if they’ve already set the trap?”

“Even if there is some sort of trap, it won’t be our problem once we drop him off at the Devils’ doorstep,” grumbled the deeper voice. “All they asked us to do was grab an omega without getting caught. Well, we’ve done one better. I’m pretty certain this is the angel from the Ketch case – you know; the one from the village bust?” Castiel didn’t have to see the alpha to know he was smirking. “They’re going to be incredibly impressed.”

The first alpha brightened. “You think so? What name did they give in court? Con… Car… Cal… Caston? Caster? Casti… Castiel! That was it!”

Castiel remained still, carefully not reacting to their words.

“Yeah… didn’t he have a kid?” the nasally voice continued, clearly trying to get a rise out of him. “Cute little blond thing. Shame we couldn’t snatch him too. Bet he would be nice and tight for taking a knot.”

Before Castiel could think it through, he smashed his wings into the alphas’ faces. He could hear Dean growling down his earpiece furiously, desperate to get his hands on the twisted alphas, and he could also hear Benny muttering curses under his breath – apparently Dean wasn’t the only human who cared for Samandriel.

Castiel stumbled as the second alpha smacked the back of his head, hard and sharp, and Dean cried out worriedly at the sudden jerk of the camera.

“Cas! You alright?”

Castiel didn’t dare respond when both alphas were glowering at him so intently, so he tilted his chin (the effect ruined by the presence of the bag over his head) and continued the walk to wherever it was his kidnappers were taking him.

They came to an abrupt halt and Castiel’s arms were grabbed tightly along with his wings, then four heavy knocks sounded on what could have been a door.

A moment later, there was a creak and Castiel breathed in a new scent – a third alpha. He squared his jaw and focused on the hushed conversation between the three alphas.

“Yes?” asked the raspy voice of a chain-smoker.

“We’re here to drop off our assignment,” rumbled the deep voice.

There was a pause and suddenly the bag was snatched from Castiel’s head. He came face to face with a silver-horned demon sporting shimmering silver wings. The rest of his body was lean and lank and messy scruff outlined his jaw and upper lip. He wore crimson jeans and a red shirt and as his gaze roamed over Castiel’s face, his lips quirked into a smile of recognition.

“Hello, Castiel,” he whispered.

Castiel had never seen the demon before, but he narrowed his eyes anyway and glared back defiantly.

Finally, the demon cast his pleased gaze to the two alphas behind Castiel and they straightened.

“You’ve done well,” he hummed. “Yogi and Boo, was it?”

Both alphas sagged a little, their expressions chagrined. “Uh… yeah,” mumbled the nasally alpha. “We were hoping we might be able to change those names once we became official members?”

The demon smirked in amusement. “All codenames are selected carefully to suit the bearers.”

Castiel bit back a chuckle as the humans deflated further.

“But-”

“Thank you for your delivery, boys. We will contact you when we are next in need of your service,” the demon rasped and suddenly, Castiel was yanked forwards, the door slammed behind him.

The demon eyed him for a moment, his smirk widening and Castiel cursed the ropes tying his hands behind his back. He flared his wings at the demon, flashing his eyes blue in hopes that it would deter the alpha from trying anything untoward.

The demon chuckled and grabbed his wing painfully tight before shoving him down the dimly lit hallway they appeared to be in. Castiel glanced around the metal walls and tiny spot lights and startled at the demon’s warning of, “Steps.”

He tripped down the first step and only managed to stay upright because the demon was gripping his wing. His footsteps bounced off the steel walls, sounding like small bouts of thunder.

They descended further and further into the depths of whatever hellish base he had been carted off to, and when they finally reached the bottom, another corridor greeted them, this one leading to a single door.

They pushed through the door once the demon had entered some sort of pin code and as they stepped into a new room, it occurred to Castiel that they were in an underground military base. He looked around the new room and recognised the central hub and few adjoining bedrooms for what they were – this would have been the main sitting room when soldiers were off-duty and the slightly larger-than-standard bedrooms with no bunks would have been where the higher ranks slept.

Currently, it was being used by groups of alphas and a couple of betas – a mix of human, angel, and demon – and as Castiel was pushed further into the fray, they began to smirk and catcall him. One even smacked his ass on the way out.

His lips drew into a thin line as he glared at the offending angel and in his earpiece, he heard Benny attempting to soothe a snarling Dean. The earpiece suddenly fell silent so that Castiel could no longer hear the station’s mutters of disgust.

The demon led Castiel into a smaller room; this one full of maps and newspaper cuttings and lists of names as well as stacks of files and records. It was empty save for one alpha who was sifting through a stack of files. She didn’t glance up at their entrance.

They travelled through a couple more rooms before finally reaching an office-like space, where half a dozen angels, humans, and demons sat at desks, searching through computers as people came to ask them questions. Castiel was manoeuvred over to a demon’s desk and the yellow-winged alpha looked him over appreciatively.

“This is the one from the Ketch case,” Chain-smoker drawled. “A couple of rookies somehow snatched him up. Where do you want him?”

The yellow-winged alpha (now dubbed _Buttercup_ in Castiel’s mind, since he had no other method of entertaining himself) cocked his head to one side. He picked up a phone and held a muttered conversation with someone on the other end before placing it back in its holder and smirking at Castiel.

“Boss says depends what condition he’s in after Ketch.”

Castiel startled when Chain-smoker began tearing off his shirt. He flapped his wings in protest but it was hard to fight someone off when your hands were tied, so he merely bared his teeth as the alpha undressed him. Both demons stared at his bare torso.

“No one’s gonna screw that,” huffed Buttercup. “What a mess.”

Chain-smoker pulled a face as he trailed a finger over one of the deeper scars on Castiel’s chest. Castiel suppressed a shudder.

“If his body’s like this, imagine what his hole must look like,” Chain-smoker snorted.

“Take a look if you like.”

Castiel stiffened, heart thumping wildly at the idea of being stripped completely naked and forced to reveal himself to yet another alpha. What would Dean say? What would Samandriel say? What would these alphas do to him once they had taken a look? There were a lot of people in this room… what if they all wanted a ‘look’ too?

 _Not again… please, not again,_ Castiel begged silently.

“I’m fine,” Chain-smoker chuckled. “There’s prettier ones to ‘inspect’ in the South wing.”

Buttercup leaned back in his seat, toying with a pen as his gaze roamed over Castiel. “No point in putting him in South – he’s far too mutilated for anyone to voluntarily look at him, never mind knot him. Bit grotesque really.”

Despite being possibly the worst people Castiel had ever met, he still felt himself deflate at their words. Was he really that ugly? Were his scars truly that repulsive? He glanced down at his own body. They _were_ rather disturbing – he looked a little like a patchwork quilt. Why did Dean kiss his scars so tenderly when they were so sickening to look at?

It was through years of practice that he didn’t startle when the earpiece suddenly flared to life again.

“Screw him, Cas. You’re freakin’ gorgeous. He’s just sour because he’s got a pair of testicles for a chin.”

Castiel carefully refrained from smiling. Dean’s crude assessment of Buttercup’s cleft chin was amusingly accurate.

“I like the greasy mop of hair. Really brings out the diarrhoea brown of his horns,” hummed Benny and this time, Castiel had to bite down on his tongue. The horns really didn’t match the vibrant wings.

“Put him in West,” decided Buttercup. “He’s got a bit of muscle. He’ll be a good labourer.”

Chain-smoker nodded. “Slave it is.” He yanked Castiel towards another door.

They traversed a few corridors that seemed to hold sleeping quarters and then Castiel was hauled into a room that held around a dozen prison cells. In each cell resided one or two omegas – either angels or demons – and all of them looked filthy and terrified. Most were underweight, as though they had been trapped there for some time, and since there were no chairs or beds in the cells, each occupant stared up at them from the floor or thin, worn mattresses.

“The other West units are full,” hummed Chain-smoker. “So, you get to play mother in here.”

At first, Castiel didn’t understand what he meant, but as he took a closer look at the occupants of each cell, it became horrifyingly clear.

“They’re all children,” breathed Benny into his earpiece.

Chain-smoker unlocked a cell and shoved Castiel into it, making him crash into the wall. He scowled at the whistling demon as he locked the cell door.

“Hopefully you’ll be out of here soon,” the alpha hummed, trailing a finger over one of the bars. “Off to some fancy house that needs a bit of tidying up, or a gang of thieves that need a heavy-lifter. You’ll just have to sit tight and hope that when someone needs a slave, you’ll be next up on the list.” The demon grinned toothily and drew away from the bars. “Honestly, I wouldn’t like to be stuck in here either.”

He ambled towards the exit, flaring his wings intimidatingly at two young angels in the first cell. They whimpered and scarpered to the back wall.

The door slammed shut and Castiel sighed. He wriggled his bound wrists uselessly. His arms were beginning to ache and he wished Chain-smoker had at least freed his hands before throwing him in this cage.

He looked around his new tiny bedroom. There was a grubby, thinned mattress, a couple of toothbrushes in a cup with a small tube of toothpaste ( _how kind_ ), a bucket (Castiel didn’t want to think about what he was supposed to use that for), a twelve-year-old demon, and a dog bowl of water (was he supposed to drink from that?)

He froze.

He slowly returned his gaze to the young demon narrowing his eyes at him from the corner of the cell. The demon bared his teeth at Castiel, revealing sharp canines and automatically, Castiel flared his wings at the boy, flashing his eyes in warning.

The little demon sank down warily, but he flared his wings at Castiel in return and slid his eyes to black. He made no move to approach Castiel.

“Cas… he’s just a kid,” Dean whispered into his ear. “He’s scared.”

Personally, Castiel didn’t care what the demon felt. After all, he was still a demon.

But Dean cared, so Castiel lowered his wings and slid to the floor. There wasn’t much he could do with his hands tied until one of the Red Devils actually returned. He wasn’t certain how long that would be, but he figured that they would be fed at some point.

Seeming to realise that he was being ignored, the young demon wandered over to the mattress and ignored Castiel back.

They sat in silence for an hour, maybe two, and Castiel listened to Dean and Benny and the rest of the station talk about what they had seen so far. It was reassuring to have them there and it helped to fight away the boredom.

...Just not for the young demon, since he couldn’t hear them. Eventually, the urge to break the boredom overwhelmed the little omega and he scowled at Castiel.

“What’s your name, angel?”

Castiel lifted his gaze and arched an eyebrow and the demon huffed.

“I’m Belphegor.”

Castiel didn’t respond. Mostly because he couldn’t with his lack of voice and his hands bound so tightly that he couldn’t reach the sticky notes in his pocket.

The demon’s scowl deepened. “Well?”

Castiel stared back helplessly.

The demon growled at him and once again turned away with a muttered, “Stupid angel.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the bars. This was going to be a long mission.

 

*             *             *

              

A meal was brought to them in the evening, although Castiel wasn’t convinced that the slop that was tossed at them in dog bowls could exactly be defined as ‘food’. It was brown and watery and smelled so much like dog chow that Castiel was pretty sure that that was exactly what it was.

He looked around the cells and watched some children crouch over the bowls, faces in their dinners like ravenous animals. Others, like the demon youngster that he was sharing a cell with, scooped the slop up with their hands as though attempting to be at least somewhat civilised.

He eyed the boy surreptitiously, watching a pained expression flicker over his face as he took small bites of the food. Despite the foul smell and off-putting consistency, the boy eventually ate the entire contents of the bowl, then threw it towards the cage door.

A rotund human alpha with a bald head and a red face came to a halt outside their cage. He glowered at Castiel.

“You’ve not eaten.”

Castiel stared at the human blankly. No way was he degrading himself by eating that slop.

“Eat,” commanded the human and with an arched eyebrow, Castiel slid the full bowl towards the door.

He watched curiously as the demon boy wiped his slop-coated hands on the underside of the mattress before slinking into the far corner of the cell.

The alpha grit his teeth and stormed away. Castiel rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the boy once more, tilting his head when the demon cowered even further into the corner as he glared at Castiel.

“You should do as he says.”

Castiel frowned and the demon snorted and shook his head. “He’ll be back.”

Castiel ignored the boy and returned to counting bars on their cell as he listened to the musings of the station. A mere five minutes passed before the alpha did indeed return.

With an electric cattle prod.

“Eat,” said the alpha again and Castiel didn’t get a chance to lunge for the bowl before the alpha rammed the cattle prod through the bars and into his side.

Castiel screamed silently and collapsed to the floor as every muscle in his body contracted in unison. The voltage had obviously been modified to an agony-inducing setting and Castiel lay on the floor, struggling to catch his breath.

It struck him that his earpiece was strangely silent. Had the high voltage overloaded it? He prayed that the camera was still working.

He struggled to his knees, panting, and was treated to another prod to the stomach. He crashed into the floor again, sweat tumbling down his neck as he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.

“Eat,” growled the alpha, wielding the prod threateningly.

With his bound hands, Castiel could only lower his face into the bowl, eating like a poorly-coordinated animal as he lapped at the wretched slop. The alpha lingered until he emptied the bowl of its contents.

“Push it by the door,” the alpha ordered, so Castiel slid the bowl away from him.

The cattle prod descended onto his neck and Castiel arched, head slamming against the bars before he was once again crumpled over the floor, unable to stop the tortured tears prickling at his eyes. As he struggled to control his breathing, the alpha unlocked the cell door and collected their empty bowls before slamming it shut again. He sauntered away with a melodic hum.

When Castiel finally managed to prop himself up against the bars, the little demon spared him a brief, pitiful glance.

“Told you.”

He returned to the mattress and toyed with some of threads dangling from it, and Castiel closed his eyes as he realised that the earpiece was far too silent to be functional. So much for entertaining himself with station musings.

He wondered if they had seen any of the past few minutes or had the camera failed too?

His blood ran cold. If the camera had failed then there was no plausible way for him to inform the station of where he was. If they didn’t know where he was, then it was up to him to find a way out.

If the punishment for not eating was electric shock, what was the punishment for attempting to escape?

Castiel swallowed as his eyes blew wide. Was he on his own now?

He wriggled his wrists desperately. _Stupid rope!_ Not only did he have to somehow get information on the Red Devils’ leaders, escape the facility, return to the station without getting recaptured, and do all of this on his own, he also had to do it with his hands tied behind his back!

Sweat trickled down his chest as he rubbed the rope over the bars, uncaring of the friction burns it awarded his wrists.

After thirty minutes of rubbing with nothing to show for it, Castiel leaned against the bars defeatedly. This was hopeless. He didn’t even have Dean or Benny mumbling ideas to him. The silence was _deafening._

The whole point of him agreeing to this mission was because he knew that he would have the support of the station – he knew he wouldn’t be alone. But now… now it was Ketch all over again. He was entirely on his own and he couldn’t even defend himself because his arms were tied. At least at Ketch’s he knew what to expect – here he wasn’t sure what they would throw at him next. He supposed he should be grateful that the boy sharing a cell with him wasn’t Samandriel. At least his son was safe in Dean’s care.

He sighed and opened his eyes to find his young cellmate standing over him with a Swiss Army knife clutched between his fingers, the sharp blade extended.

Castiel gasped and scrambled away from the boy, but there was nowhere to go and he couldn’t disarm the demon. He slammed a wing into the boy’s side and the demon let out a pained shout, falling to his knees as he clutched his bruised side.

“Idiot!” the boy yelled, swiping blindly at Castiel’s wing with the blade.

Castiel smacked the demon’s head with the hard bone of his wing and the boy cried out again and slashed futilely at the offending wing as tears of pain pooled in his eyes. He crawled away from Castiel and cowered in the far corner of the cage once more, baring his teeth at the angel as he pulled his knees to his chest.

Heart racing, Castiel pressed himself against the bars and rubbed harder at the rope, uncaring if his wrists bled. Where had the boy got a knife from? He needed to free his hands so he could defend himself – he had been lucky this time.

The boy rubbed his head with a thick scowl and Castiel didn’t dare take his attention off him, just as the demon seemed intent on glowering at him from the other side of the cell.

After a few minutes, once the boy’s tears had dried, he spoke.

“I was trying to cut you free, stupid angel.”

Castiel paused his useless attempt at wearing the rope away to raise his eyebrows at the demon.

The boy rubbed at his head as he held up the knife. “You’ll never get anywhere with that rope unless you cut it. It’s too thick.”

Castiel blinked and a red flush crept onto his cheeks. The demon had been trying to help him?

The demon scowled at him and continued rubbing his aching head. “But now I’m not sure if I should free you. You’re clearly a psychopath.”

Castiel’s eyes widened and he shook his head, pulling his wings behind his back.

The demon scoffed. “Fine. If you want me to cut you free, you have to at least tell me your name.”

Castiel opened his mouth then snapped it shut helplessly. How was he supposed to do that? He couldn’t reach the sticky notes. He licked his lips and opened his mouth again, making a show of trying to speak despite no sound leaving his throat. The demon eyed him suspiciously and Castiel attempted to silently mouth his own name.

The boy tilted his head slightly with a frown. “…You can’t speak?”

Castiel shook his head.

The boy contemplated the new information for a moment before warily standing and approaching him. Castiel couldn’t help but raise his wings in warning when the boy raised the knife. Being distrusting of demons was instinctive. The boy flinched and took a step backwards, watching him warily, so Castiel forced his wings down once more. He needed to be free of this rope and he would have to hope the demon was telling the truth about wanting to help him.

“Lean forwards,” the demon commanded, edging closer, so Castiel did, steeling himself in case the boy decided to literally stab him in the back.

There was the sound of a blade hacking at rope and suddenly, Castiel’s aching arms fell to his sides. He looked up in surprise and the demon quickly backed up, watching him carefully as he rubbed at his raw wrists.

Castiel met the demon’s gaze and slid a hand into his back pocket. The boy scuttled backwards, gripping the knife tighter, then frowned in confusion when Castiel retrieved his sticky notes and pen. He wrote a brief message, realising that he would have to conserve the notes if he wanted to retain his only method of communication.

 

_Thank you_

The demon inspected the note cautiously before lowering his blade. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled. “For whatever it’s worth in this dump.” He ambled towards the mattress again and plucked at a few threads.

Castiel scrutinised the demon – _Belphegor_ , he corrected – for a few moments. He really was only a child, despite seeming mature for his years. Actually, if it wasn’t for the grimy black hair, navy-blue horns and navy-blue wings that faded to black at the bottoms, he would have looked a lot like Jack. 

Jack, who he had also mistaken for a threat to his son in much the same way that he had mistaken Belphegor as a threat to him. He frowned and watched the little demon poke at the mattress in boredom. He wondered where Belphegor’s parents were – were they looking for him? How long had he been here?

“’S rude to stare,” Belphegor grumbled.

Castiel ducked his head apologetically and wrote a new message. He stood and made his way over to the boy, mouth turning downwards when Belphegor flinched and shuffled away from him slightly. He paused and held out the note and Belphegor took it gingerly.

 

_My name is Castiel_

Belphegor stared at the message for a long time before handing it back. Castiel rubbed at his eyes, suddenly realising how tired he was and the boy watched him warily. Must have been all the excitement of the day catching up to him.

“You tired, angel?” Belphegor asked, looking displeased.

Castiel shrugged and retreated to the opposite side of the cell; he still didn’t fully trust Belphegor and the demon had made it clear that he didn’t trust Castiel. He leaned his head against the bars and pointed at the knife that Belphegor was still clutching. The demon glanced at the knife and Castiel raised an eyebrow in query.

A wince crossed Belphegor’s expression before he lifted his chin defiantly. “A guard dropped it. He didn’t see me take it.”

Castiel nodded and scrubbed a hand down his face. He was really tired. He didn’t want to close his eyes with Belphegor so close, but maybe he shouldn’t be too concerned now that his hands were free. If the demon tried anything, he would easily be able to defend himself.

“You’re not going to sleep, are you?” Belphegor demanded with a scowl.

Castiel cracked an eye open and glared at him irritably.

“Useless angel,” grumbled Belphegor as he turned his back on Castiel.

Castiel rolled his eyes and settled against the bars again. A nap might clear his head anyway. He would be able to figure out how to escape this mess once he was rested.

He slept deeply.

 

*             *             *

 

He woke up hours later feeling groggy and suffering from a splitting headache. He grimaced as he ironed out the crick in his neck and scrubbed a hand down his face before looking around.

The room was dark and the children were all sleeping. Silence blanketed the room and Castiel glanced at his watch, wondering how long he had been asleep.

…Four hours?

He blinked in alarm and looked around in confusion. So much for a nap. How had he fallen asleep for so long?

His throat was dry and his head was still pounding, so he crawled over to the water bowl – as loathe as he was to degrade himself any further – and brought it to his lips. As he did so, he felt someone watching him. He whipped around to find Belphegor lying on his side, arms wrapped around himself and eyes entirely black. Faint tear tracks stained his cheeks and when he noticed Castiel looking at him, he scowled.

“Have a nice sleep?” he huffed almost bitterly. “Of course you did. That’s what drugs are for, right?”

Castiel’s eyes blew wide but before he had a chance to panic about the reasons he might have been drugged, Belphegor snorted and swung himself upright.

“They didn’t do anything to you, don’t worry,” he grumbled, swiping at his eyes in a valiant effort at ridding his face of tear stains. “I kept watch over you,” he added sarcastically.

Castiel frowned curiously. If they didn’t do anything to him, why drug him in the first place? Unless Belphegor was lying about the drugs. Then again, drugs would explain the banging headache and grogginess. Was there something the demon wasn’t telling him? Maybe the alphas had done something to him and Belphegor was just trying to spare his feelings – Castiel would rather he didn’t. He wanted to know if someone had touched his body whilst he was unconscious, regardless of whatever awful things they had done.

Belphegor grabbed the Swiss Army knife from its hiding spot under the bed and toyed with each tool idly. Castiel watched him for a few minutes before focusing on how to complete his mission.

Whilst the earpiece was down and therefore that meant that the tracker was offline, the station would still have his last recorded location as this facility, which meant that this would be their first port of call when they staged a rescue attempt. If the camera had also gone offline, Castiel had no doubt that Dean was already on his way, the rest of the KPD backing him up and all of them intent on pulling him out of this awful place regardless of whether he had information on the Devils’ leaders or not. He trusted Dean to come get him if things went South.

On the other hand, if the camera was still working, the rest of the station would be hesitant to blow his cover if they could see he was alright – even if Dean was demanding they pull the plug on the mission.

Raising an eyebrow, Castiel began to write a note and once he was finished, he thrust it in front of the button in his jeans (which he had mentally dubbed _The Crotch Camera_ solely for amusement purposes).

 

_Not sure if you can read this, Dean, but I’m unharmed. Please don’t worry. I wish to continue with the mission and will signal you when I have obtained the required information._

He held the message up for a little while before tearing it up and stuffing the shreds into his pocket. No use in risking any Red Devils finding that message. Now it was a question of whether the station had read his message or whether they were already on their way, in which case he needed to work fast.

The children would probably be as clueless as he was, so he would have to wait for another Devil to show up and hopefully ask a few questions… somehow.

He leaned against the bars and waited.

 

*             *             *

 

The following evening, he learned three things:

1) The KPD had obviously received his message since they hadn’t busted through any doors,

2) Ergo, The Crotch Camera was still functional,

3) The Devils only appeared at meal times – i.e. once a day in the evening around seven-ish.

The same bald alpha delivered their food and once again, Castiel was stabbed with the cattle prod for refusing to eat. He didn’t want to eat – not when his meal was likely to be drugged – so instead of suffering another shock from the prod, he drew his sticky notes from his pocket and quickly scribbled out a message. The alpha watched curiously and appeared almost amused when Castiel held the note out to him. He didn’t even seem concerned that the omega’s wrists were strangely unbound.

“’Where am I?’” read the alpha, lips quirking into a grin that didn’t suit his round face. “West wing, where we keep the slaves.” He tossed the note through the bars at Castiel.

Castiel scowled and shook his head, but the alpha merely chuckled and crossed his arms, entertained by the new development. Castiel wrote out a new message and supposed he should be grateful that the alpha didn’t seem inclined to steal his pen.

“’Why are you doing this?’” the alpha read. “Easy – money. I get a tidy little sum just for carting you bitches around and throwing some food in a bowl. Best-paid job I’ve ever had.”

Castiel assessed the alpha carefully as the note was thrown back at him. This human seemed dense; easy to manipulate. Maybe if he asked the right questions…

“’You’re okay with hurting children? Starving and scaring them like this?’” The alpha scoffed and crumpled the note in his fist. “Bunch of alien kids. I don’t care what happens to them – none of you should be here anyway. We haven’t got enough resources on Earth as it is. If you’re gonna crowd our planet, you might as well make yourselves useful.”

Castiel’s mouth drew into a thin line as he glanced around the children trembling in their cells. He wrote another message.

“’And I suppose your bosses share your views? I bet they get paid an even tidier sum in their ivory towers away from all us _aliens_. Mind giving me a name so I know who to kill once I break out of here?’” The alpha laughed, eyes crinkling with mirth. “I like you. You’ve got spunk. You remind me a little of myself.”

Honestly, that was the last thing Castiel wanted to hear. He passed over a new note.

“’Don’t worry, you’re at the top of my hitlist, along with the demon who ripped up my favourite shirt.’” The alpha laughed louder as he finished reading and wiped a tear from his eye. “That would be Alastair. The demon who ruined your shirt. As for my bosses… one of them is thinking of stopping by for a visit later tonight. If you’re up, you can ask him.” He smirked toothily and just as Castiel put pen to paper, the cattle prod was jabbed into his neck and he fell to the floor in torment.

“Well, I can’t sit and chat all evening. I have work to do. Eat.”

Castiel hauled himself upright, every muscle in his body throbbing. He reluctantly did as he was told, unwilling to test his body’s voltage limits any further.

When their bowls were removed and the alpha had left them alone, Castiel lifted his gaze to Belphegor and watched the little demon pull his knees to his chest, eyes closed. His wings tucked close to his back and Castiel found that particular position familiar – Samandriel had often adopted the same posture at Ketch’s when he was feeling fearful yet resigned to his fate.

Belphegor gave the impression of being tough and disinterested, but Castiel was quickly beginning to realise that the demon was in fact quite afraid – he merely hid it well. Maybe demons weren’t so different from angels after all.

“Would you quit staring at me like I’m some lab experiment, angel?” Belphegor huffed. “It’s bad enough that I’m on display in this cage twenty-four hours a day like an animal at the zoo. I don’t need you gawping at me as well.”

Castiel blinked and looked away, cheeks heating.

Hopefully tonight he would get a glimpse of this ‘boss’.

 

*             *             *

 

He awoke at midnight, aching and confused. Darkness suffocated the room alongside empty silence and it occurred to Castiel that his food had once again been drugged. He internally cursed himself for missing his shot at finding out the name and face of one of the bosses.

A soft hitching of breath caught his attention and he turned to find Belphegor in a similar position to the previous night. The demon lay on his side, eyes black and tears rolling down his cheeks, wings shaking. When he realised that Castiel was watching him, he once again swiped away the tears.

“Go away, angel,” he mumbled angrily.

Castiel felt himself soften, just a little. He wondered if Belphegor had been thinking of his family; of his parents or maybe his siblings or a grandparent. He wondered if he missed home. Castiel certainly missed Samandriel and Dean.

Belphegor bared his teeth. “Stop looking at me!”

Castiel turned away, unphased by the hostility. Samandriel often put on a show of bravado when he was feeling uncertain or afraid around strangers – Belphegor was no different. The thought made Castiel’s lips twitch upwards.

He crawled over to the water bowl, seeking solstice from the pounding in his skull.

Maybe tomorrow would yield more answers.

 

*             *             *

 

Tomorrow did not yield more answers, nor did the next day, or the day after that. After five days of being trapped in a cell, Castiel had learned no more than the name of the demon who had torn his shirt. The alpha that fed them always managed to skirt around the important questions that Castiel asked and he was beginning to wonder if the human was starting to catch on that Castiel was looking for information for a more substantial reason than pure curiosity.

The only things that changed was Belphegor no longer cried at night and Castiel’s food became clear of drugs.

On the sixth evening, a female alpha demon came to feed them. She had no time for Castiel’s questions and when Castiel passed her a note, she briefly read it before stabbing his side with the cattle prod and commanding him to eat.

Tired of being degraded, Castiel threw his bowl at the cell door; its contents spilling all over the bars and corridor floor.

The alpha clenched her fists. “Eat off the floor then,” she snarled before beginning to collect the empty bowls. She left and Belphegor eyed him in amusement.

“You’ll get in trouble for that,” he said, gesturing to the mess on the floor.

Castiel shrugged. Eating that so-called ‘food’ was a punishment in itself.

Belphegor stared at him for a few more moments, brows furrowing. “What happened to you, anyway? How’d you get all those scars?”

Castiel glanced down at his bare chest, tracing a particularly jagged mark with a gentle finger. He had a flashback to Dean doing just that with his hands and lips and tongue. He smiled at the memory. He retrieved his pen and sticky notes from the floor, where he had dropped them after his last dealing with the cattle prod.

 

_My son and I were held captive by an alpha for five years. He made money by selling our company to people who wanted it. Some of his customers made these marks._

Belphegor read through the note and Castiel hoped he hadn’t revealed too much. The demon was still only a fledgling after all – he didn’t need to know all the gory details of what the ‘customers’ did to him.

Belphegor frowned. “He forced you to have sex with them and they got off on hurting you,” he summed up and Castiel’s jaw dropped slightly.

The boy shrugged and handed the note back. “You don’t get to be naïve in here.”

Castiel’s heart ached a little. The demon was so similar to Samandriel in attitude and astuteness – it wasn’t fair that either of them had to see such horrible things. He wondered what Belphegor’s parents would say when their son returned home. Would they be shocked by his lost innocence? Angry? Upset?

“You have a son?” Belphegor asked quietly.

Castiel nodded.

“How old is he?”

Castiel held up ten fingers with a soft smile. His fledgling would turn eleven in a mere six days. His expression faded – what if Castiel wasn’t out of here in time for his son’s birthday? Samandriel had already been acting off with him these past weeks; refusing to get undressed in his father’s presence where it had never before been an issue. He wouldn’t allow Castiel to apply any ointments to his scars – wouldn’t even let him look at his skin. And then there had been the whole Jack debacle… He couldn’t also miss his son’s birthday and make everything ten times worse. He needed to speed things along.

A small smile touched Belphegor’s lips before it fell away again and he fingered his knife. Castiel was beginning to wonder if the knife was akin to a comfort toy for the little demon; the one thing that belonged to him in this prison.

“Your customers,” Belphegor murmured softly. “Did they… did they abuse him too?”

Castiel winced and wrote his next note carefully.

 

_Not in the same way they abused me, but they did scar his body and they touched his wings and skin, even when he begged them not to. I managed to spare him from the more unspeakable things._

Belphegor hunched in on himself as he read the message, wings tucking close to his back. His body trembled and Castiel frowned sympathetically. Had Belphegor seen something similar happen to a family member or maybe a friend?

Swallowing his uncertainties about demons, Castiel crossed the room and sat on the floor at arm’s length from the boy. He made sure not to touch the mattress Belphegor was sitting on and he watched the boy flinch slightly before risking a glance at him.

“You’re a good father,” Belphegor whispered after he realised that Castiel wasn’t going to hurt him.

Castiel offered him a grateful smile and Belphegor returned the expression before toying with his knife again. Castiel noticed a faded bruise on the back of his neck and he frowned at it curiously. It was huge. He dropped a new message on the mattress.

 

_What happened to your neck?_

Belphegor’s eyes widened and he touched the back of his neck and grimaced. He turned a hard gaze on Castiel.

“Alphas,” he growled, but the explanation was lacking something. Castiel could sense that the demon was holding back on something important. He raised an eyebrow in query and Belphegor’s lip wobbled before he turned away angrily.

“Alphas did it, okay? I disobeyed an order and I got punished for it. Happy, angel?”

There was something more bothering the demon and Castiel could tell by the shaking wings that the boy was close to breaking point. Actually, now that Belphegor had turned away from him, Castiel could see the full extent of the bruise. It was wide and peculiar – stretching around his neck and ending either side with circular marks. They almost looked like…

Fingerprints. And the main bruise was that of a palm. Someone had wrapped their hand around the back of Belphegor’s neck.

But why the back and not the front? Surely if someone had wanted to strangle him, it would have been more effective from the front? Unless they were pinning him down, face-first? Castiel wrote out another message and placed it on the mattress.

 

_What did you do to make them restrain you like that?_

Belphegor glanced over the message and suddenly his gaze slid to black and a tear trickled over his cheek. He shook his head.

“I begged them to stop,” he whimpered and something in the way he said those words made Castiel’s blood turn to ice. There could have been a hundred different meanings to that sentence, but Castiel suspected he already knew which one the young demon was referring to.

He opened his mouth and snapped it shut again, unsure how to respond to the implications and too stunned to figure it out.

“It started before you came,” Belphegor whispered. “But it’s why they drugged you.” He wrapped his arms around his knees. “They haven’t visited these past three days.”

Castiel swallowed thickly and mouthed, “Who?”

“The bald one,” Belphegor whimpered. “And one of the bosses. They’ve started visiting together.”

Castiel wanted to throw up. A twelve-year-old boy! It didn’t matter that he was a demon – how could they do this to a fledgling? It could just as easily have been Samandriel or Jack or any other boy or girl in Belphegor’s position.

Castiel looked around in alarm at the other children cowering in their cells. How many of them had been subjected to the same horrors?

Tears rolled freely down Belphegor’s cheeks, his wings shaking violently. “It hurts so much,” he whispered. “I just want them to stop.”

Castiel didn’t stop to think as he shuffled onto the mattress and pulled the boy into his arms. At first, Belphegor tensed and tried to escape, but Castiel cradled him gently in his feathers and rubbed his wings soothingly and the demon abruptly broke down. He clutched at Castiel and sobbed his lungs out and Castiel held him through it, uncaring of the inky gaze he had once thought evil and the twisting horns so close to his face.

Instinctively, he tucked Belphegor’s face into his neck and eased his scent into something more calming and protective, and eventually Belphegor’s cries quietened into sniffles as he pressed his nose deeper into Castiel’s neck.

“You don’t smell like the other angel,” he mumbled, inhaling deeply. “You smell nice.” He snuggled a little closer. “Safe.”

It occurred to Castiel that Belphegor’s other visitor was an alpha angel and his face fell. He knew of the horror stories that circulated The Silver City – the tales of what demons did to angels. He had always considered demons to be the villains, the evil ones; it had never occurred to him that angels could be just as cruel to demons. He hadn’t even believed that demons could be innocent, but looking at Belphegor now… what had the boy done to deserve any of this?

Castiel held him tighter, protective instincts running high as Belphegor scented at him. It was a miracle that the boy would even allow Castiel to touch him after what had been done to him. Castiel closed his eyes in shame as he remembered lashing out at the demon upon their first meeting.

He had done exactly the same to Jack and Samandriel had later told him that Jack had lost his mother to angel kidnappers. Jack had been just as innocent as Belphegor and Castiel had hurt them both because of his own fears and prejudices.

Dean had been right. He couldn’t keep branding all demons as evil just because he had fought in a war against them.

“Angel?”

Castiel blinked and looked down at the red-faced Belphegor. The eyes still made him a little uncomfortable but he knew that he couldn’t let Belphegor know that. He cocked an eyebrow.

“We’re gonna get out of here one day, right?”

Castiel’s gaze softened and he ruffled the boy’s hair, heart cracking when Belphegor leaned into the touch desperately, like an animal starved of affection. He nodded determinedly and Belphegor managed a weak smile.

“Angel?”

Castiel chuckled silently and looked down at the boy again.

“…You won’t leave me, will you? If you find a way out, you’ll come back for me, right?” Belphegor whispered cautiously.

Castiel nodded and placed a hand over his heart, and Belphegor buried his face into his neck once more, breathing deeply.

“Angel?”

Castiel grinned and rubbed the demon’s back.

“Sleep next to me tonight? The floor’s too cold. You’ll get cramp.”

Castiel felt his heart melt. He wrapped himself around the demon protectively and Belphegor lapped the attention up. He stroked Castiel’s feathers curiously and prodded at his halo and explored in the way that all children do – by touching and asking questions and smiling whenever something unusual happened (like when Castiel fluffed his wings for Belphegor’s enjoyment).

Eventually, Belphegor grew tired and, cocooned in the safety of Castiel’s wings, the boy dozed against his chest. Castiel lowered them both to the grubby mattress and wrapped his arms around the boy, holding him close and out of view from any visiting Devils. He narrowed his gaze; no one would touch Belphegor whilst he was around.

He scented at the boy and quirked his lips at the aroma of gingerbread, raspberries, and honey. He had never realised that demons could smell so sweet and appealing.

He had been so wrong about them. So unfair.

He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

 

*             *             *

 

The stench of fear woke him. He didn’t even have to open his eyes to know that Belphegor was trembling violently in his arms.

He had the distinct feeling that someone was watching them.

Belphegor was clutching at him, terrified and desperate, and Castiel bristled when he heard the cell door unlock. His chest was cool from Belphegor’s tears and he curled around the boy a little tighter, pleased when the demon wriggled closer.

“Belphegor,” whispered the familiar voice of the bald alpha. “Belphegor, come on out. It’s time to play.”

Castiel grit his teeth and wrapped his wings around the demon even more securely. Belphegor released a tiny whimper.

“Hey, I don’t think the angel’s asleep,” hissed the alpha to someone outside the cell.

“Just grab the fledgling,” snapped a deep voice. “It’s my turn to use his mouth.”

Belphegor sobbed quietly as the bald alpha edged closer. “Come on, Belphy. You know what happens when you don’t follow the rules.”

A hand grabbed Belphegor’s ankle, where Castiel’s wing wasn’t quite wide enough to cover. The demon whined and Castiel twisted his head to glower at the human. The alpha paused. “He’s definitely awake.”

“You were supposed to drug him,” rumbled the other alpha.

“Astaroth mustn’t have made him eat it,” hissed Baldy.

“Just grab the fledgling!”

Baldy pulled a face before yanking on Belphegor’s ankle in an attempt to slide him out of Castiel’s grip. The demon whimpered fearfully and Castiel smacked his wing into Baldy’s face, making him stumble backwards.

“Maybe we should leave it for tonight?” asked Baldy, rubbing at his bruised eye.

“Or you could use the cattle prod, idiot!”

Castiel stiffened and quickly drew himself to his feet. He pushed Belphegor behind him as the green-winged angel outside the bars handed Baldy the dreaded prod. Baldy wielded it at Castiel but as Belphegor continued to tremble behind him, Castiel decided that he would withstand electric shock therapy if it meant protecting the little demon from the clutches of these vile alphas. Castiel flared his wings furiously and Baldy backed up again, eying Castiel’s black halo warily.

He suddenly lunged at Castiel, but the angel grabbed the non-conducting part of the pole and managed to avoid its buzzing end as he smacked the alpha over the head again with his wing. The alpha stumbled and Castiel hit him once more and wrestled the prod out of his grip. It clattered to the floor and Castiel smashed his fist into the alpha’s face before pinning him against the bars, a hand wrapped around his throat. The alpha squirmed in his grip and Castiel stared at him in disgust. What a pathetic little man.

“Angel!”

He startled at Belphegor’s shout and turned just in time to find that the alpha angel had managed to grab the prod through the bars, before it descended on his stomach. He crumpled to the floor, wings twitching with residual charge.

“Grab the damn fledgling!” the alpha angel snarled, forcing the human to jump into action. He grabbed the boy’s horn despite Belphegor’s kicks and clawing, and dragged his screaming captive towards the door.

From the floor, Castiel kicked the man’s legs out from under him and when he fell, Castiel squeezed his throat until he released Belphegor. The boy scurried to the back of the cell and Castiel steeled himself against the next attack from the cattle prod.

He struggled to catch his breath as he lay on the grimy floor, but Baldy seemed to be having his own difficulties after Castiel’s strangling, so he had at least a few more seconds to recover.

The door clicked and Castiel watched in horror as the alpha angel made a beeline for him, prod firmly in his grip. He raised it into the air as though he was planning on stabbing Castiel through the heart with it and Castiel braced himself for a world of pain.

The prod descended towards his chest and then suddenly, the alpha screamed and staggered away from him.

Castiel managed to prop himself up on his elbows and his eyes blew wide as he realised that the other angel was… on fire?

The alpha stumbled into the bars, flapping his wings wildly as he attempted to put himself out, and Castiel watched in stunned amusement as the flames only seemed to spread faster through his feathers.

“You stay away from him!” Belphegor snarled as he came to stand by Castiel’s side. He raised a hand and flames engulfed his entire body, from horns to feet, before a stream of scorching fire jettisoned from his palm towards the screaming alpha angel.

The few flames that the alpha had managed to extinguish flared even higher than before and he howled in agony, skin blistering as he scrambled for the door. The human alpha crawled after him, throwing a terrified glance over his shoulder after locking the door and in under a minute, the room was blissfully silent.

Castiel watched Belphegor’s fire die away as quickly as it had come and suddenly, the boy was in his arms, scenting his neck and smoking slightly as he purred.

“No one’s ever saved me before,” Belphegor whispered.

Castiel blinked and stared at the lightly charred floor. If Belphegor could literally set people on fire, why had he not escaped by now?

Seeming to sense where his thoughts lay, Belphegor gently led Castiel to the mattress. He tugged the angel onto his side and settled into his arms again with a happy smile as Castiel automatically drew his wings around the boy.

“Fire’s a good weapon when you can gather enough concentration to wield it. Kinda hard to concentrate when you’ve got a cattle prod ramming into your side every few minutes, or when two alphas are pinning you to the floor with your ass up and your pants down and their knots…” He trailed off and swallowed before snuggling into Castiel’s chest. “Just… thanks for protecting me.”

Castiel’s gaze softened and he stroked the demon’s hair and rubbed the space between his wings until the boy began to drift off. Castiel watched over him for a little while, blanketing him in feathers and tracing over his horns curiously. They were smooth and hard unlike his wings, which were strangely velvety but by no means unpleasant.

Fast footsteps caught his attention and he swivelled his head, eyes widening in alarm at the burned and bloodied alpha angel marching towards them; a gun pointed at their faces.

Castiel gasped and tucked Belphegor beneath his body, shielding him entirely from the other angel’s vision. Belphegor startled awake just in time to see the seething alpha stalking over before Castiel obscured his vision.

The first bullet tore through the widest point of Castiel’s left wing and a silent cry of agony erupted from him as blood surged out of the wound.

“Angel!” Belphegor screamed. He attempted to wriggle out of Castiel’s hold but Castiel knew that the demon’s powers couldn’t be summoned fast enough to beat a bullet. He curled tighter over the boy, refusing to release him even when tears sprung to the demon’s eyes.

“I don’t care about you. It’s the fledgling I want. Move and I won’t have to kill you too,” snarled the alpha.

Castiel lifted his gaze to bare his teeth at the other angel. The alpha trained the gun on Castiel’s other wing. “I’ll make this painful for you if you don’t move.”

There was no way that Castiel was about to allow the fledgling beneath him to be murdered. If it meant another bullet hole, then so be it.

“You’re expendable,” hissed the alpha, face practically bubbling as his burns slowly radiated deeper into the tissue. “Both of you are! I could kill you both right now and no one would care! No one gives a crap about either of you!” His tone was verging on hysterical as the gun wavered in his grip.

He cursed and clutched at his face, doubling over in agony as tears spilled down his ruined cheeks. He aimed the weapon at Castiel in a last-ditch attempt to make him move, but his hold was unsteady and the bullet ricocheted off the cell bars and wedged itself in the wall. The alpha swore again and sprinted towards the exit, clawing at his own bloodied face.

Castiel rolled onto his side, wincing at the throbbing in his wounded wing. He eyed the hole in dismay, watching thick red exudate spill onto his feathers, slicking them together. At least the bullet wasn’t still embedded in the muscle.

“Stupid angel!” Belphegor snarled and Castiel glanced over at him, startling when the boy began peeling his shirt off. He prowled towards Castiel and began to bind the material around the wound. When Castiel reached out to help him, Belphegor swatted him away with a growl and knotted the shirt tight enough to temporarily wind Castiel.

“Thank you,” Castiel mouthed after a few moments and Belphegor glowered at him before settling into his lap with a barely audible whine. He nosed at Castiel’s neck once more, breathing in his scent and wrapping his arms around him as though he couldn’t bear the thought of letting go.

Surprised, Castiel stared at him for long minutes. Belphegor was so young – so similar to Samandriel in his actions and mannerisms. He craved reassurance and affection and someone to tell him that everything would be alright. He was desperate for a friend to distract him from what he was facing, just like Samandriel had been. But Samandriel was safe and loved and under Dean’s protection in a beautiful home on a well-cared-for farm; Belphegor was stuck in a filthy cell miles away from his family, being humiliated and abused by a bunch of sick and twisted alphas, and the only person he could gain any comfort from was a mute stranger more than three times his age.

Belphegor began to shiver, the cold air finally seeping into his bones.

He didn’t deserve this. No fledgling did. Samandriel had at least had Castiel for support and protection from the more unspeakable things that their clients enjoyed – who did Belphegor have?

Castiel snaked his arms and wings around the boy and tucked him into his chest.

“Promise me we’ll get out of here together?” Belphegor whispered against his neck.

Castiel nodded, placing a protective hand over the back of the boy’s head.

As he glanced at the shirt tied around his wing, he realised how wrong he had been about demons. They weren’t all that different from angels or humans. They had the same emotions and thoughts and wants; their fledglings learned and behaved in the same way that angel and human fledglings did.

He had been so blinded by his hatred for demons that he couldn’t see that half of them were just as afraid of him as he was of them. The worst part was that he had given them every reason to be frightened of him – like the day he had attacked Jack. How could he have even thought of raising his hand to a fledgling? He scowled at himself in disgust.

He lowered his gaze to Belphegor and his heart ached. He had lashed out at this fledgling too. After the boy had been raped continuously by two vile alphas, he had entered his space (however grubby a space it was) and he had hit the demon twice with his wing, as hard as he could.

This innocent fledgling who had unbound his wrists and offered him the shirt from his back.

He could tell that the demon wasn’t asleep by the subtle but desperate scenting the boy was performing at his neck. Under normal circumstances, the thought would have been the furthest thing from appropriate, but Castiel threw caution to the wind and began rubbing his wrists over the demon’s bare back and wings. Initially, Belphegor flinched, but then he figured out Castiel’s game and made a soft sound of relief as he opened his wings for better access.

Castiel smothered the demon in his scent and when he was finally satisfied that the fledgling smelled like him, Belphegor ceased his pleased purring and grinned up at him.

“Did you just adopt me?”

Castiel smiled in amusement and ruffled the boy’s hair. Belphegor sighed happily. “You smell so much nicer than Baraqiel.”

Castiel nuzzled the demon’s hair and squeezed him lightly in query.

Belphegor tangled a hand in Castiel’s feathers. “Baraqiel’s the angel that shot you.”

Castiel nodded idly before freezing. He pulled away slightly to stare at the demon and Belphegor frowned in confusion.

“What?”

Castiel fished his sticky notes out, mouth turning downwards at his dwindling stack. He etched out a message and handed it to the boy.

 

_You know their names?_

Belphegor tilted his head at the question before sliding his gaze to Castiel. “Whose names? The guards? Yeah, I know a few. Why?”

Castiel bit the inside of his lip, contemplating whether or not he should tell the boy why he was really there. What if Belphegor accidentally told the Devils that he was wired? He stared at the boy carefully. Belphegor wouldn’t do that; the demon hated his captors too much to accidentally tell them anything.

He scratched out a long message over a couple of notes and waited patiently for Belphegor to read through it. When he finally reached the end, the demon’s eyes sparkled with hope, his wings raising slightly.

“Really?” he breathed.

Castiel nodded. Belphegor’s wings fluttered and he nestled into Castiel’s chest contentedly.

“Okay, so there are a few bosses. I know up to the one in charge of this facility, but I don’t know who’s in charge of him. You already know Baraqiel, in charge of the West wing. Then, in charge of South, there’s Karen…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Underage
> 
> Super long chapter because I didn't know where to split it, so I didn't bother. Also kid!Belphegor ;)


	23. The Cavalry Arrives

_Coxae was a sleepy little village in the West of Arylon. Days drifted by at a steady pace and the people ambled around the village even slower. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone – where the village-people lived and worked their whole lives in the village and only travelled outside its boundaries if completely necessary. There were family-run corner shops and family-run clinics and family-run schools and all the streets and buildings were lined with the sort of sparkly black shadowglass that you only ever saw in postcards from centuries passed. It was as though the whole village was stuck in some sort of time-warp, despite its people owning modern technology; a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Eden and its many developing zones._

_Finding Balthazar and Gadreel had been easy once he had left Eden. The pair had bought a cosy bungalow attached to another bungalow, which had conveniently popped up for sale in the past week at a very affordable price (Castiel still had no idea how his friends had managed to swing that one but he was grateful that they had). The transition into village life had been smooth and relieving and Castiel adored living so close to his best friends._

_Changing their identities had been a bit more of a challenge, but Coxae wasn’t the innocent little village it appeared to be and Balthazar already had contacts (no surprise there). Within a week, Balthazar’s papers were suddenly Clarence’s, Gadreel’s became Ezekiel’s, Castiel’s were now Emmanuel’s, and Samandriel’s switched to Alfie’s._

_No villager seemed to know about the change, or maybe they did and they were too busy hiding their own secrets._

_Life changed drastically for the four. Samandriel was entered into a small school where no one seemed to care that he was an omega – everyone was treated equally regardless of their designation and Samandriel was a lot happier for it. He made a handful of polite friends and bullying rarely ever occurred when the teachers were so intolerant to it._

_After being so accustomed to agent work, it was difficult for Balthazar, Gadreel, and Castiel to find jobs that interested them and, in the end, they had to just settle for what was available._

_Balthazar applied as a receptionist at the clinic and signed himself up to a course that would hopefully train him to be a nurse. Gadreel – ironically – picked up a job at the local funeral directors. Castiel became a waiter for the most popular café in the village (although, considering there were only three cafés in the village, that probably wasn’t much of an achievement)._

_Working ‘normal’ jobs was a difficult adjustment for a couple of weeks, but soon the trio were walking a little lighter and smiling a bit more because it finally began to sink in that they were together and safe._

_Until they weren’t._

_Their slice of paradise was brutally ripped away from them exactly three months after they had arrived. In hindsight, Castiel should have tossed his company-bought phone_ before _he had arrived at Arylon, but he had needed it to communicate with his friends and in his haste to flee Eden after the disaster with The Host, the thought had completely slipped his mind until_ after _he had already bought the bungalow._

_Castiel had been walking home from work late one evening, looking forward to a relaxing night in with his friends, his son, and a movie, when all of a sudden two black vans came speeding towards him from opposite directions. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as they skidded to a halt, then his skin paled as his old colleagues spilled out of the vehicles, dressed in bullet-proof armour._

_He gasped as they charged towards him – a dozen of them, to be exact – guns readied and blades tucked into their belts. He took off into the air, sweat rolling down the back of his neck as his ex-workmates soared after him, and he landed in front of his friends’ door, yelling and hammering on it panickily._

_The door swung open and Castiel was dragged inside by his equally terrified friends. They bolted the door and Castiel snatched Samandriel up from the floor and followed his friends to the back door. They threw it open and leaped into the air just as The Host began to round the back of the bungalow, and they flew by moonlight towards a thick forest, tailed by those they had once considered friends._

_They practically crash-landed between the trees in their haste to escape and then they were sprinting through the mud and vegetation, eyes wide and frantic as they searched for a hiding spot. The Host’s footsteps thundered after them like a herd of angry animals and Castiel dragged his friends into a ditch, ducking low as a couple of angels glided over the treetops above them._

_Gadreel dragged Balthazar, Samandriel, and Castiel towards him, blanketing them in his wings as they held their breaths. They clutched at each other desperately, trembling in a combination of fear and reaction to the cool air sinking into their bones. They didn’t dare speak as The Host scoured the forest, but Gadreel and Balthazar shared an anguished kiss before huddling together again and waiting for everything to be over._

_Twenty minutes passed without their discovery and, since they could no longer hear The Host stomping around, they carefully untangled themselves from one another and climbed out of the ditch. When it was apparent that the search party had moved on to a different part of the forest, they each let out a shaky breath._

_“We can’t stay here,” Balthazar whispered, wings still trembling as he glanced around._

_“We can’t go back to the bungalow,” Gadreel said, shaking his head quickly._

_“No, I mean we can’t stay here!” Balthazar hissed. “In The Silver City!”_

_Gadreel and Castiel blinked._

_Balthazar ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I’ve heard… rumours. There’s a port not too far from here. Ships that’ll take us to another planet. A bigger one. One that takes in refugees of war and protects them.”_

_“You mean Earth?” Castiel asked. He knew of Earth. The Host knew of Earth. The native species was wingless and they had taken many refugees from both The Silver City and Purgatory. They never engaged in inter-planetary wars and it was rumoured that no one ever challenged them due to the thousands upon thousands of nuclear missiles each of their largest land masses had secretly trained upon their upper atmosphere. No one was stupid enough to wage war against a species that used nuclear power as one of its primary energies. Imagine toeing the line of powering your lights and wiping out an entire city with one nuclear meltdown? Humans were either extremely intelligent or extremely dumb and no one was quite sure which it was, although most tended towards the latter considering humans had barely discovered inter-planetary travel. They couldn’t even leave their own solar system (and what a barren solar system it was)._

_“We can’t just leave our planet,” breathed Gadreel. “We don’t even know anything about Earth!”_

_“We know it’s safer than here!” Balthazar snapped._

_Castiel glanced between his two terrified friends and cursed himself. He had brought this upon them._

_“It’s me they want,” he murmured. He hugged Samandriel a little closer. “I’ll go. They’ll leave you alone once I’m away from you.”_

_Balthazar and Gadreel stared at him in shock before frowns swept over their faces and they both reached for him._

_“We’re not letting you face this alone, Castiel,” Gadreel growled as though the very idea offended him. “We go together or not at all.”_

_Castiel wriggled out of their grips and eyed them desperately. “I’m ruining your life!” he blurted. “You’re being hunted because of me! You’re always looking after me and Samandriel – protecting us, figuring everything out… I can’t keep tearing up your life like this. Let me go. Let me go and they’ll stop hunting you.”_

_“We’re in this mess because you brought my mate back to me,” Balthazar said fiercely. “The only ones ruining our lives is The Host and their greedy, manipulative ideals. Castiel, I would trust you with everything I have and am. I can’t lose you; neither of us can. We go together or not at all.”_

_Castiel’s eyes grew wet and he swiped at them roughly. What had he done to deserve friends like these?_

_Gadreel swallowed then turned to his mate. “Where’s the port?”_

_Balthazar managed a weak but grateful smile at his mate. “Supposedly fifteen minutes flight from here.”_

_Gadreel nodded and squeezed Castiel’s hand. “Let’s go.”_

_They took off, shooting above the trees as fast as they could._

_They immediately regretted it as the host surged towards them._

_They were a little distance away – maybe a mile or so – but they plunged after them like a well-trained army and the trio pushed themselves harder to get away._

_The Host’s armour slowed them down, but Castiel was carrying Samandriel and the added weight didn’t exactly help. He was caught off-guard when Gadreel suddenly slid Samandriel out of his grip. Gadreel was taller than him and by definition of being an alpha, he probably had a bigger muscle mass than Castiel did. The Host began to lose ground on them._

_Twelve minutes later and the white, spherical escape ship came into view._

_The ships were scattered across The Silver City and they were constantly working; manned by dedicated angels who worked in part of a mysterious network to help get people off the planet. No one really knew anything about the angels who piloted the ships or why they did it, nor did they know where all the ships had come from, but the ships would ferry people to Earth and as soon as their cargo was unloaded, they would take off again and return to The Silver City. The only other stop they made was for fuel._

_It was pure luck that there was a ship at this particular port at this particular time._

_They watched a few angels board the ship._

_“WAIT!” Balthazar screamed as they pushed themselves faster._

_“HELP!” Castiel yelled frantically._

_The pilot was an old, greying angel with pale blue wings and a worn knee-length coat. She peered through her golden spectacles at the scene of three desperate angels and a fledgling being flanked by what were clearly a dozen armed members of The Host._

_She waited patiently._

_Castiel sobbed in relief as they descended towards her, and then Balthazar cried out in agony and plummeted towards the ground, wing trailing streams of blood._

_Castiel instinctively raced after him and managed to cushion the impact of them both hitting the ground. They scrambled to their feet, glancing at the weeping bullet wound over Balthazar’s humerus. The bone was clearly fractured._

_Castiel wrapped an arm around his friend and hauled them both towards the ship on foot. Gadreel soared above them, Samandriel clutched tightly to his chest, and then Balthazar screamed and collapsed._

_Bile crept up Castiel’s throat at the hole in Balthazar’s left leg, straight through his knee. Blood pooled on the grass, staining it crimson._

_Gadreel landed beside them with a horrified expression. He released Samandriel to pick up his mate, but Balthazar shoved at Castiel before he had even crouched down._

_“GO!” Balthazar cried through tears of agony. Castiel shook his head despite being able to see that The Host was almost upon them as they plunged towards the ground._

_Gadreel stood with a wild-eyed glance towards The Host. Then he gripped Castiel’s chin and stared into his eyes intensely._

_“You want to leave,” he whispered. “Everything in your heart is telling you to take Samandriel with you and run for that ship. You have to get away from us. Can’t you feel the urge to escape flooding every nerve? It’s so powerful you might burn. You have to take Samandriel and run before your skin burns away.”_

_And suddenly, Castiel could feel it; the terrible burning under his skin. He inhaled sharply. It was far too hot – he had to get away! He had to grab Samandriel and get on that ship. He had to leave Balthazar and Gadreel before he burned alive!_

_He snatched up Samandriel and sprinted towards the ship, feeling his skin beginning to cool the further he got from his friends. He hopped into the ship as Samandriel screeched at him to turn back and rescue Balthazar and Gadreel, but he couldn’t because he knew he would burn if he stayed with them. Why couldn’t Samandriel understand that?_

_The pilot calmly locked the door after herself before climbing into the pilot’s chair. Castiel stared out of the little porthole as The Host gathered around his friends, weapons raised. It was then that Gadreel’s power of suggestion finally wore off._

_Castiel’s eyes widened as he watched his friends face The Host alone. What had he done?_

_“No!” he yelled desperately as Gadreel and Balthazar’s faces were shoved into the mud, their hands cuffed behind their backs. He hammered on the door frantically. “No!”_

_He had left them. Why had he left them? They were supposed to go together!_

_Samandriel was crying behind him. The other four passengers were staring at Castiel warily. He whirled around to face the pilot._

_“We have to go back! We have to save them!”_

_The pilot said nothing._

_He stumbled through the little cabin towards her. “Turn around!” he snarled._

_She offered him a pitying smile._

_Castiel slumped to the floor with a whimper._

*             *             *

The next few hours were a waiting game. Castiel had made a list of the bosses and presented them to The Crotch Camera, hopeful that now the KPD had the information they needed, a team would be sent out to rescue him (and, by extension, Belphegor and the other children). All Castiel had to do was sit back and wait for the KPD to come crashing through the doors. It should have been easy.

Should have.

Castiel had been rubbing the tension from Belphegor’s wings and petting his hair as the little demon snuggled into him, when a series of events happened too fast for him to process.

Four alphas entered the room – a mix of demons, angels and humans – and they made a beeline for Castiel and Belphegor’s cell. The two humans carried cattle prods and as they opened the cell, Castiel shoved Belphegor behind him and backed against the wall. The two humans descended on him with the prods and he miraculously managed to catch them both, only for the hulking demon to kick him in the side. He staggered and one prod brushed his arm, making him crumple. Behind him, he heard Belphegor’s fire flare into existence, but the second prod slammed into his stomach and Belphegor gave a pained cry and fell to the floor.

Castiel crawled to his knees and attempted to throw himself over the little demon, but the other angel raised a hand and a crushing pressure was applied to his chest. He gasped for air as his ribs began to protest the invisible weight and he could only stare helplessly as the alpha demon stooped down to collect the groaning Belphegor.

Suddenly, Belphegor burst into flames and screeched out a battle cry as he focused his power on his captor, but as the flames hit their target, the older demon drew out a curved dagger and rammed it clean through the boy’s palm.

Immediately, the flames died as an agonised howl was torn from Belphegor’s throat. He clutched his hand and sobbed at the blood pouring out of the wound, and the newly-extinguished alpha demon slid the blade from Belphegor’s palm, eliciting another anguished cry.

“And the other one,” grunted one of the humans – a rough-looking woman with greasy hair and a fine moustache.

The dagger plunged into Belphegor’s other palm.

Castiel jerked towards the boy as Belphegor’s wail bounced off the bars, but the pressure on his ribs worsened and he could barely breathe.

“That should keep us safe,” mused the alpha demon as he grabbed Belphegor by his wings. “Let’s get him to distribution.”

The four alphas left the cell, dragging the screaming Belphegor along the floor after them. The cell door locked and finally Castiel could fill his lungs with air. He scrambled to his feet and threw himself at the bars, rattling at them desperately as he watched Belphegor be hauled away.

He grit his teeth and rattled harder at the bars, determined to grab someone’s attention.

Of course, nobody came.

He banged at the bars for half an hour, maybe longer, as the children around him whimpered and cowered and stared at him warily. He eventually gave up, resting his head against the bars as he panted and scrubbed the frustrated tears from his face.

How could they have taken Belphegor like that? How could they have brutalised his hands like that? He cursed himself for not acting quicker, for not fighting against that angel’s crushing grip.

He paced around the cell like a caged animal. He could wait for the KPD to burst in, but by then it could be too late. Where did they say they were taking Belphegor? Distribution? What was that? Was that where omegas got transported to their new masters?

He snarled and kicked the mattress furiously. It jangled.

He froze and then lifted the withering mattress up to find Belphegor’s beloved knife resting innocently beneath it. He snatched it up and raced over to the cell door, jamming it into the lock and wiggling it around.

He had promised Belphegor that they would get out of this hellish place together and he didn’t intend on breaking that promise.

He clenched his fist triumphantly when the door swung open.

A few children perked up at seeing him free and his heart throbbed painfully at their hopeful faces. He wanted to grant them their freedom but time was against him and he needed to find Belphegor. The KPD would release all of these children later – they were safer here than where Castiel was about to go.

With a guilty wince, he left the children behind and sped down the corridor, uncaring of the ache in his wing. He had a feeling his bullet wound was infected.

He dodged wandering alphas and hid behind corners in his attempt to get out of the West wing, and then he had no choice but to enter the central room with all the alphas seated at desks. He could spot Buttercup typing away at his computer.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door and took flight, despite his protesting wing. He made sure to slap a couple of alphas in the face and over the back of the head with his wings and raised his eyebrows in surprise when they yelled at him, “Watch where you’re flying, knothead!”

Obviously, his scent hadn’t quite sunk in and they thought that he was one of their own – inconsiderate, idiotic, and selfish. He wasn’t about to stick around and wait for them to realise the truth.

He stumbled through another corridor at random, hoping it would lead to the distribution centre. It was an inefficient way of working but it wasn’t as though the place was conveniently signposted.

He ran through corridor after corridor, glancing into various rooms in hopes of spotting navy-blue wings. It was only when he staggered into a unit containing around twenty naked and trembling adult omegas, did he realise that he was in the South wing.

He swallowed down his nausea and averted his gaze. There were old and young omegas alike in this unit. They appeared thankfully unmarked, but that didn’t mean much and Castiel knew it. These were the omegas that would be sold into the life that Castiel had suffered; maybe some had already been through it and were back for a second round.

He shuffled out of the room and headed back the way he came, attempting to rid his mind of their terrified faces. The KPD would rescue them all once they got here.

They would be traumatised and distrusting and possibly irreparably scarred forever, but they would be free. They just had to hold on a little longer.

Castiel slammed into a strong body with a putrid scent. He glanced up at the alpha he had run into.

_Baraqiel._

His eyes widened and he whirled on his heel, breaking into a sprint back towards the unit, but Baraqiel grasped his wing and pulled harshly.

With Belphegor’s Army knife clenched in his hand, he spun around and slashed at the other angel’s burned cheek and Baraqiel screamed and smacked him into a wall with a wing. They wrestled against the wall for a few moments, wings flapping and halos black with fury as they kicked and clawed at one another, and then Castiel hooked his leg around Baraqiel’s and pinned him to the ground as he tumbled.

He raised the blade above Baraqiel’s eye threateningly and mouthed, “Belphegor!”

The alpha snarled at him, green feathers ruffled in outrage.

“Get off me, bitch!”

Castiel narrowed his eyes and drove the blade through Baraqiel’s left wing. He slapped his hand over the alpha’s mouth before the scream started.

Castiel raised his own wounded wing pointedly as if to say, ‘Now we match.’

“Belphegor,” Castiel mouthed again. “Demon,” he clarified in case the stain beneath him didn’t remember the fledgling’s name.

Baraqiel grinned through the pain. “Your cellmate’s gone. He’s being shipped off to a new place in a couple of hours. One of our regular whorehouses wanted a new slut. We usually would have picked someone from South, but I gave a recommendation.” His grin widened and his eyes flashed violet. “I heard they’re thinking of chopping his hands off so he can’t throw any more fireballs.”

Castiel bared his teeth furiously and twisted the knife deeper in the muscle of a green wing. Baraqiel’s howl was muffled by his palm.

“Where?” Castiel mouthed silently and Baraqiel huffed out a laugh.

“As if I’d tell you.”

The knife’s tip forced through the back of Baraqiel’s wing, creating a hole all the way through the appendage. Baraqiel arched and laughed again.

“This is a well-used corridor, omega. Someone’s going to spot you and then you’ll be thrown back into your cell.”

Castiel curled his lips in disgust and aimed the blade for the alpha’s eye once more. Suddenly, Baraqiel grabbed his wrist and flipped their positions until he had Castiel pinned beneath him. Fortunately, Castiel managed to press the tip of the blade against the alpha’s stomach warningly.

Baraqiel chuckled, his burns angry and red. His once-good-looks had literally bubbled away to leave ugly blistered skin. The slice in his cheek oozed blood; he looked like a villain out of a horror movie.

“Then again,” he purred, tracing a finger down Castiel’s jaw. “I could be persuaded to give you the fledgling’s location.”

Castiel flared his wings in offense and pressed the blade deeper against Baraqiel’s skin. Suddenly, the alpha wrapped slender fingers around his throat.

“Or I could shout for assistance and throw you back in that cell? Killing me won’t help your chances of finding him,” he hissed. Blood dripped from his face onto Castiel’s cheek.

Castiel narrowed his eyes and allowed the knife to bite into Baraqiel’s stomach, making the alpha wince and tighten his grip on the omega’s throat.

“Let me knot you and I’ll give you the fledgling’s location,” he growled.

Castiel would have happily gutted the alpha there and then, but two pairs of footsteps caught his attention. He flicked his gaze up to the end of the corridor worriedly. He could fight one alpha, maybe two, but three was pushing it – especially if they were armed.

Wandering these corridors aimlessly wasn’t going to help him find Belphegor and he was apparently on a time limit. He had two hours to not only find Belphegor and free him, but also stop him from being recaptured until the KPD arrived. He needed a location.

He eyed Baraqiel, repulsed.

The alpha rumbled intimidatingly. “Since I didn’t get to knot the demon, I’ll have to make a compromise. You’ll do. Maybe I can repay you for all the work you two did to my face,” he spat as he squeezed Castiel’s throat. “I’ll help you if you help me.”

Castiel swallowed down the bile crawling up his throat. The alpha’s scent was one of rot and decay. He wanted to kill the alpha but as the footsteps got closer, Castiel closed his eyes and nodded.

Suddenly, he was dragged towards the unit with all the South omegas and thrown onto the floor. Around him, angels and demons turned away in pity or cowered in fear as Baraqiel followed him into the room.

He gasped as Baraqiel began tugging at his trousers and he instinctively swiped at the other angel’s face with his knife.

Baraqiel hissed and slapped him before yanking the knife from his grip and, before Castiel could blink, the other angel was on him, claiming his mouth with a demanding tongue as he slipped Castiel's trousers off entirely.

Castiel bit the other angel’s tongue.

Baraqiel yelped and smashed his knuckles into the side of Castiel’s face before undoing his own jeans. He pulled at a dark wing and smirked when Castiel attempted to throw him off.

“I love it when you sluts struggle,” he purred before claiming Castiel’s mouth again. Castiel could taste the other angel’s blood from where he had bitten him.

Disgusted, he kicked the other angel square in the crotch and grimaced when he felt the hardness that greeted him. How was the alpha getting off on this?

Baraqiel grunted in pain and suddenly shoved into Castiel, and the omega threw his head back in agony. Baraqiel growled possessively and thrust in and out of the omega as he pinned him to the floor. Castiel’s eyes widened when he felt the alpha’s oil glands begin to leak over his wings.

Determined to make it painful for Baraqiel, he raked his nails down the other angel’s back, leaving deep, bloody scratches. Baraqiel hissed and jerked his hips harder as he began to smother his own rancid oil into Castiel’s feathers.

Castiel shuddered at the nails clawing through his wings and he hooked a finger through the knife wound in Baraqiel’s wing. Baraqiel howled and suddenly pulled out of Castiel to flip him onto his stomach.

“I’m going to break you,” Baraqiel snarled beside his ear before forcing into him once more. He curled a fist into Castiel’s hair and shoved his face against the floor as he took him over and over, until Castiel was sore and aching and desperate for it to end.

Baraqiel’s knot began to swell, but the alpha didn’t stop. Castiel grew raw and tender and still the alpha didn’t stop. He forced Castiel up onto his knees and knotted the omega faster and rougher until Castiel was plastered against his chest, arching and wincing with every drag of the alpha’s knot against his scarred insides. A fist wrapped around Castiel’s own soft dick, tugging roughly as the other hand splayed over his chest territorially, as though Castiel was Baraqiel’s property.

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on something else, anything else.

Dean. Focus on Dean. His smile. His pretty apple eyes. The dusting of freckles on his cheeks. His safe, comforting scent. The way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. The way he looked at Castiel when he thought the angel wasn’t paying attention. How disgusted he would be once he learned of what Castiel had allowed Baraqiel to do to him.

He paused. Would Dean be disgusted by him?

Baraqiel grunted by his ear as he struggled to thrust his knot deeper.

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut tighter. No. Dean would… Dean would understand why he was doing this. Dean wouldn’t hate him for this. He wouldn’t lose the alpha over this, would he? No… Dean cared about him. Dean wanted him. Dean wouldn’t leave him just because another alpha had knotted him.

...Whilst they were in a relationship.

Castiel’s heart pounded in his ears as Baraqiel jerked him quicker. Would Dean hate him for this? Would he lose his alpha? What if… what if the whole station was watching right now? What if they were all disgusted by him? What if Dean was ashamed of him?

Maybe he really was nothing but a slut.

He gasped when Baraqiel abruptly ripped his knot out of him. He was overwhelmed by a terrible burning sensation but he didn’t get too much time to dwell on it because Baraqiel shoved him back onto his hands and knees and thrust his swollen knot into his unprepared ass.

A silent scream tore from Castiel’s throat as Baraqiel grabbed his hips and hammered into him. “We’re just getting started, bitch,” Baraqiel sneered.

Dean really was going to leave him.

A single tear rolled down his cheek as Baraqiel began to claw at his vulva.

 

*             *             *

 

Dean hated leaving the station when Castiel was cooped up in that insidious hole, but Samandriel didn’t deserve to be left alone for too long and the kid needed someone to pick him up from school. For the past week, Dean had driven Samandriel to and from school, taking him and Jack to the station so he could keep an eye on Castiel whilst also ensuring that Samandriel didn’t panic on his own. The kid was clearly distraught at having his father gone for so long, but there wasn’t much Dean could do other than offer physical comfort and keep him away from the video feed of what Castiel was seeing.

Every night, when Jack had gone home, Samandriel would crawl into Dean’s bed and snuggle up to the alpha. Every night, Dean wold hear him sob quietly.

Dean took to curling around Samandriel and grooming his wings until his sobs stopped. Every night, he kissed Samandriel’s head and told him he loved him, and the angel would wriggle closer and tell Dean he loved him too.

Eventually, Dean came to realise that he needed Samandriel’s support just as much as the little angel needed his. He was struggling to stand idly by as Castiel faced the horrors of the Red Devils and the more he learned about Belphegor, the worse his desperation to do _something_ grew.

When Castiel’s earpiece had been fried, Dean was dead set on getting the angel out of there, but Victor and Benny had calmed him down and reasoned with him that Castiel was alright and knew what he was doing. Despite reading Castiel’s message about wanting to continue with the mission, Dean had still been itching to help.

When Castiel had been drugged, Dean had yelled at Victor to let him bust in, guns blazing. Victor and Benny had once again calmed him down. They sent him home and told him to get some sleep and, as he watched Samandriel curl up in his office chair for a nap, he reluctantly did as he was told.

When he learned of what was being done to Belphegor, he watched Samandriel draw in his office, and he immediately joined the little angel. Samandriel seemed to sense his distress and he said nothing as Dean slid into his swivel chair and placed Samandriel on his lap. He wrapped his arms around the young omega and sat quietly as he gazed at Samandriel’s drawing, and Samandriel placed a reassuring hand over his and continued to sketch.

It was a sketch of Dean hunched over his desk, working hard. There were a few similar sketches on the other page – all of Dean with different expressions and in different positions. Apparently Samandriel had been studying him.

He kissed Samandriel’s shoulder and held him closer and thought about how Belphegor didn’t have any of this.

“Love you, Dean,” Samandriel whispered after a few long moments and it occurred to Dean that Samandriel could hear his every thought.

Dean pressed his nose into Samandriel’s neck and scented deeply, offering a mental apology for exposing him to the horrible things that his job entailed.

Samandriel easily bared his throat for Dean and Dean marvelled at how trusting the angel was.

“Only of you,” Samandriel replied softly. “You and Dad.”

“I love you too, Samandriel,” Dean whispered, tangling his fingers into silky feathers.

He watched Samandriel draw for a little while; scenting and nuzzling his hair and kissing his head every so often to convince himself that the angel was safe.

Eventually, Samandriel tired of sketching and nestled against Dean’s chest, closing his eyes as Dean stroked his wings.

Not wanting to disturb the angel but itching to get back to the monitor to check on Castiel, Dean gathered Samandriel into his arms and wandered out of his office. He sat down and glanced around at his colleagues for a moment, watching them work their own cases and reports, before focusing on his case; Castiel.

It was a long time before anything really happened – long enough for Samandriel to be snoring softly against his shoulder. Dean was just considering packing up and going home for the night so Samandriel would have a comfortable place to lie, when the microphone installed on Castiel’s camera picked up on a couple of voices.

“Belphegor. Belphegor, come on out. It’s time to play.”

Dean bristled. He was pretty certain that the voice belonged to the bald alpha who fed Castiel.

“Hey, I don’t think the angel’s asleep,” continued the voice.

“Just grab the fledgling,” snapped a deeper voice. “It’s my turn to use his mouth.”

There was a soft sob, presumably from Belphegor, and Dean snarled angrily. How dare they abuse a kid!

He was proud when Castiel held the boy closer; his angel had leaped great distances in such a short space of time to go from loathing demons to protecting one. Castiel truly was incredible.

He watched the events unfold onscreen and he whined helplessly when the cattle prod descended on Castiel’s stomach, causing him to crumple.

Samandriel cracked an eye open blearily and turned to the screen, so Dean placed a hand over the back of his head and gently guided him to his shoulder. He didn’t want Samandriel to see any of this.

 ** _“Dean? Is that Dad?”_** Samandriel asked in sleepy Enochian.

Dean nuzzled his hair. **_“Go back to sleep.”_** He winced at the second attack from the cattle prod.

 ** _“Dean?”_** Samandriel asked, the tiredness beginning to clear from his voice as he tried to catch a glimpse of the monitor. **_“What was that buzzing?”_**

Dean kept a protective hand over the back of Samandriel’s head. **_“Nothing important. Go back to sleep.”_**

Samandriel twisted and shoved Dean’s hand away just in time to watch another snarling angel raise a cattle prod above his fallen father as though meaning to stab him with it.

 ** _“DAD!”_** Samandriel screeched, gaining the attention of the majority of the station.

Helpless to do anything else, Dean wrapped his arms securely around the struggling boy, holding him tight when his wings flapped in distress.

Suddenly, the alpha angel caught fire and screamed as he staggered away from Castiel. Belphegor edged onto the screen and caught fire too, but he didn’t seem concerned by it. In fact, he seemed to be in control of it. He raised his hand and a stream of fire flew from it, igniting the alpha angel once more.

Samandriel stopped struggling and stared at the little demon in awe as both onscreen alphas scrambled to get away. Once they had left the cell, Belphegor lunged at Castiel, purring and scenting and speaking softly.

Samandriel calmed, listening to the other boy speak as he leaned against Dean. He frowned at Belphegor’s stunted explanation of why he had never used his fire to escape and he squeezed Dean’s arm subconsciously, as though convincing himself that he was safe with Dean.

Belphegor drifted off to sleep in Castiel’s arms and Samandriel was content to lean against Dean and watch the monitor or the passing officers for a while.

Then his father was shot.

As son as the gun appeared onscreen, Dean tried to shield Samandriel’s eyes, already knowing that wherever the next few minutes went, it wouldn’t be pretty. However, Samandriel was stubborn and he managed to rip Dean’s hand from his face just in time to hear the _bang_ and his father’s violent jerk was enough to let him know that he was the one who had been shot.

The alpha was muttering hysterics at Castiel, but the camera was dark since he was still draped over Belphegor. A few minutes later, Belphegor scrambled out from beneath Castiel and both Dean and Samandriel could see that the angel’s wing was wounded.

Samandriel’s tears dried up as Belphegor tended to his father’s wing and Dean contemplated calling Victor over to get permission to pull Castiel from the mission. This was getting too dangerous. He was just calculating how long it would take to drive to the earpiece’s last recorded location, when Castiel stopped scent marking Belphegor and passed him a note.

“Whose names? The guards? Yeah, I know a few. Why?” asked Belphegor curiously.

Dean froze and turned to stare at the screen with wide eyes. Suddenly, Belphegor began listing names and Castiel scribbled them down. A few minutes later, a note appeared onscreen where Castiel was holding the list in front of the lens.

Dean quickly took a screenshot and hollered for Victor.

They were on the road in under fifteen minutes. Charlie offered to take Samandriel back to Dean’s home despite his pleas to come with Dean, and the alpha nodded and offered her the keys. There was no way he was taking a kid into that horror-show, especially not _his_ kid.

They hooked up the camera feed to a laptop and Dean focused on it the entire journey, ensuring Castiel was okay after all the excitement.

It was a long drive that took far too many hours for Dean’s liking.

He snarled when Belphegor was taken from the cell hours later and his heart ached when Castiel pounded at the bars desperately. If Castiel could just wait another couple of hours…

He watched as his angel unlocked the cell with a knife and he held his breath as Castiel soared through the central room, hitting alphas with his wings on the way. He felt nauseous at seeing all those naked omegas trapped in one of the South wing units, all terrified and humiliated.

_One hour before they would arrive._

He whined when Castiel slammed into Baraqiel, and his colleagues murmured in horror around him as they, too, grew invested in the action onscreen.

Benny squeezed his shoulder tightly when Castiel and Baraqiel began to fight.

Dean yelled at the driver to put his foot down.

Baraqiel offered Castiel the young demon’s location in exchange for a knotting and even though he outwardly begged Castiel to drive the knife into Baraqiel’s stomach, inwardly he knew that Castiel’s promise to leave the place with Belphegor would weigh heavy on his angel’s mind.

He flinched when Castiel agreed to Baraqiel’s terms.

Dean’s colleagues respectfully looked away when Baraqiel forced into Castiel, mounting him as though he was some worthless animal.

The view was different this time, since Castiel’s trousers had been discarded. The camera was partially obstructed by the waist of the trousers, but the lens was directed towards Castiel and Baraqiel, and Dean could see everything, including the ashamed expression on his angel’s face. He nearly broke the laptop from clutching it too hard.

They arrived at the old military base when Castiel could no longer hold back his agonised sobs and Dean was out of the van before it had even stopped moving. His colleagues said nothing to him as he prowled towards the entrance and they savoured the fresh, crisp air that wasn’t choked by Dean’s thick, repugnant scent.

They had silently agreed that Baraqiel’s fate was to be left to Dean.

 

*             *             *

 

Baraqiel pulled his jeans up and smirked down at the shuddering, bloodied omega slumped over the floor. He kicked Castiel hard between the legs because he felt like it, then chuckled when the other angel curled in on himself. He teased his belt through its loops.

“Head back down this corridor and take your second left. Distribution is the third door on the right,” he hummed before heading towards the exit. “Better be quick. He leaves in five minutes.” He laughed as he left and then the room fell blissfully silent.

Castiel looked down at himself through a curtain of tears. What a mess. He was littered with bruises from Baraqiel’s fingers and wings and teeth. His skin was spattered with both his and Baraqiel’s blood and every inch of him ached and throbbed, particularly his groin region. He was covered in the other angel’s fluids – both oil and semen – and Baraqiel’s putrid scent was seeping deeper into his pores with every passing second, drowning him. He could still taste the alpha’s acrid ejaculate on his tongue.

He managed to push himself to his hands and knees and dragged his trousers on. He didn’t even have a shirt to clean up with.

He swiped angrily at his own tears. It wasn’t necessarily the act of being claimed by Baraqiel that had him so upset – he was furious about that, yes, but that wasn’t what he was so ashamed of.

He was supposed to be Dean’s. Dean was the one he was supposed to give his body to. Dean’s scent was the one he was supposed to wear. Dean was the only one he was supposed to sleep with.

Yet it seemed that Dean was the only person he hadn’t give all those things to. He had never slept with Dean and he barely allowed the alpha to touch him.

Would Dean hate him for giving Baraqiel all those things? Most probably. Alphas, after all, were known to be territorial. He had let Baraqiel do all those horrible things to him and Dean would be able to smell it on him; would be able to see the marks that another alpha had left. Why would Dean want a broken, second-hand omega? He would constantly be reminded of what Baraqiel had done to Castiel – what countless other alphas and betas had done to Castiel.

Not to mention the entire station had probably just watched Castiel have sex with that vile alpha. Was there anyone who hadn’t seen him naked?

Probably Dean. Dean had probably looked away in humiliation.

He shook his head in disgust at himself. He had likely embarrassed Dean; everyone knew they were together. Now they knew exactly what type of mess Dean had devoted himself to.

Well, he definitely wouldn’t want him now, with Baraqiel’s semen and oil painting his body.

He squared his jaw and clambered to his feet, snatching the knife up as he went. Might as well make himself useful. He had a job to finish.

He pushed through the door and half-ran, half-limped towards Distribution.

He peered through the window in the door to Distribution. The room was huge with tall ceilings and cold, steel walls. There were a few alphas and a beta milling around, signing papers and checking cargo. At the far end of the room, Belphegor huddled in on himself in a cage, small and alone and bleeding.

On the left wall was a large garage door and it slid open to allow a van through, before shutting again. Castiel watched as two alphas moved towards Belphegor’s cage and unlocked it. Immediately, Belphegor threw himself at the alphas, kicking and clawing and biting, but a beta swooped in with a prod and the boy crumpled with a cry. They began dragging him across the floor towards the van.

Castiel startled as he heard two sets of footsteps hurtling around the corner towards him. Baraqiel had asked for assistance.

He was out of options.

He shoved through the door and took flight, despite the pulsing in his wings. The occupants of the room turned in surprise and Belphegor quickly took the opportunity to slice his horns through one of his captor’s arms.

The alpha yelled out and withdrew his arm, so Castiel plunged for the second captor and sliced his knife through the demon’s wing. The second alpha screamed and jumped backwards, and Belphegor leaped into the air after Castiel.

“You came!” he choked out and as tears of relief sprung to the boy’s eyes, Castiel decided that the past hour had definitely been worth it.

The question was… how did they get out of here?

An angel and a demon took flight and Castiel and Belphegor managed to roll away from the pair before Belphegor spotted the release button for the door. He sped towards it, only to be ploughed into by the flying angel.

Desperate and with nothing to lose, Castiel jumped onto the angel’s back and carved a deep slice into his wing. The angel screamed and threw Castiel to the floor, focusing on him instead.

Belphegor understood the distraction for what it was and sprinted for the button, dodging the female demon’s attempt at tossing him into the air.

He smashed his fist into the button and yelped when a human alpha grabbed his collar and threw him against the wall. He whimpered and held his head, disorientated.

Castiel snarled and jerked the knife into his opponent’s throat and twisted. The angel slumped to the floor, watching helplessly as his own blood pooled around him.

Castiel raced towards the human alpha about to kick Belphegor’s head, and sliced his neck open from behind. He watched the human collapse.

He was so done with Red Devils.

With a jet-black halo and blazing azure eyes, Castiel gently picked up Belphegor and flared his wings wildly at the Devils heading towards him. They hesitated a moment and Castiel sprinted towards the open garage door. However, before he stepped outside, two familiar faces stepped inside.

He raised his eyebrows. Benny? Victor?

They seemed equally stunned at meeting him. “Castiel?” they asked in unison.

The Devils raced towards them. Benny and Victor raised their guns. “KPD! You’re under arrest!”

The Devils froze, then ran the other way, towards the door that led into the corridor.

Benny and Victor chased after them, leaving Castiel and Belphegor to stare at one another.

 

*             *             *

 

Most of the Devils had been bundled into police cars and vans by the time Dean and Gordon and a few other officers began releasing the omegas in the West wing. More officers were releasing those in South and Dean hoped that one of them had found Castiel. He hoped that the omega was tucked up safely in a police van or an ambulance, with a shock blanket and a steamy drink.

He wanted nothing more than to go to Castiel and hold his omega and never let go, but the omegas locked up in these cells needed attention first.

He was irritated by the fact that some Devils had managed to escape confinement in all the chaos and were probably on their way to terrorise another state, but the thing he was most livid about was that Baraqiel had not been spotted by any officer. His knuckles turned white just thinking about that angel getting away with everything he had done.

“Dean,” announced Benny and Dean turned to find his friend accompanying a worse-for-wear Castiel.

He stumbled over to the pair with a soft whine.

“Kid’s in an ambulance. Cas wanted to see you,” Benny explained quietly before stepping away to allow the pair a private moment.

“Cas,” Dean choked out as he swept the angel into a frantic hug, uncaring of the filth and fluids staining his skin. He attempted to scent at the angel’s neck but all he could smell was rot and decay. He wrinkled his nose and Castiel winced and lowered his gaze in shame.

Dean tangled his fingers in Castiel’s hair and tugged him closer, practically folding himself around the omega. Castiel slowly slid his hands up Dean’s shirt and clutched at the fabric.

No words passed between them as they held each other, relishing each other’s closeness. Finally, Dean kissed his angel’s hair.

“Never again,” he whispered. “You never do anything like this alone again, yeah?”

Castiel nodded against his chest before pulling away with a glassy gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

Dean cupped his cheek. “For what?”

The angel glanced down at himself before shakily pulling his sticky notes out of his pocket.

 

_For having intercourse with him._

Dean stared at the note in disbelief before tugging his angel closer. “You’re sorry for him raping you? Yeah, that makes sense,” growled Dean bitterly. Castiel shook his head and wrote another message.

 

_I agreed to his terms. I gave consent._

 

Dean kissed Castiel’s head. “In order to save Belphegor. That’s not consent.”

Castiel lowered his gaze again and this time, Dean gently tilted his chin up. “I’m not angry at you, Cas. It’s him I want to murder.”

Castiel’s brows drew together in confusion.

 

_I don’t understand. How can you still want me after what you saw? What the entire station saw?_

Dean smiled sadly and leaned their heads together. “Because you’re the most badass angel I know. Because you put everything you had into protecting a kid you barely know anything about. Because you got over your fear of demons. Because you fought back when they tried to beat you down. Because you’re stubborn and determined and you keep your promises, even when everything hurts and you’ve faced the unspeakable.” Dean grazed their lips together. “Because you’re gorgeous, Cas. Even covered in blood and dirt and some other alpha’s oil and spunk… you are the most beautiful, most amazing person I have ever had the honour of meeting.”

Castiel inhaled shakily before finally collapsing against Dean with a sob. He threw his arms around the alpha and sealed them off from the world as he curled his wings around them both.

Dean snaked an arm around his waist as he held the angel’s head to his neck and they clutched each other for a long time, before Dean kissed the angel’s hair.

“But you do need a bath,” he whispered.

Castiel grinned against his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That is the end of Castiel's history flashbacks - so now you know everything about his past ;)


	24. A Well-Deserved Rest

The car ride home was silent and tense in a way that Dean hadn’t expected.

Belphegor had refused to be taken to hospital and had clung to Castiel the moment he returned from the military base. Nothing the paramedics or police said would encourage Belphegor to slacken the desperate grip he had on Castiel’s hand.

At one point, Gordon had attempted to forcibly remove Belphegor from Castiel’s side, and the alpha had been rewarded with a fist to the face courtesy of the terrified demon. At that point, Castiel had gently tugged the demon to his hip and turned to Dean.

Dean took one look at their bloodied bodies and marched them both to the van he had arrived in. Once they were back at the station, he had herded them into the Impala and sped to the old converted barn house.

Belphegor was clearly nervous of Dean – and it was no wonder after all he had faced at the hands of alphas. Although Dean hated the idea of any child being afraid of him, he said nothing as Castiel and Belphegor made themselves comfortable in the back seats; Belphegor’s head on Castiel’s shoulder as the angel stroked his wings reassuringly.

When they arrived at the house, Charlie opened the door and Castiel was ambushed by Samandriel. Belphegor scuttled backwards in surprise and watched the strange pup sob and whimper and shout in Enochian, all whilst clutching at Castiel.

“He’s been like this all evening,” whispered Charlie before patting Dean on the back and quietly excusing herself.

Dean ushered them all into the house and locked the door, a sense of relief washing through his systems at the soft _click_ of the latch.

Belphegor looked a little overwhelmed as he glanced around the house and back to Castiel and the new pup. He backed himself into a corner and avoided Dean’s gaze.

Suddenly, Samandriel reared backwards with wide eyes and flared nostrils.

 ** _“You smell wrong,”_** he whined at his father, new tears surfacing as he grasped Castiel’s hand for answers. **_“Why do you smell like that?”_**

He finally took a good look at his father; his gaze roaming quickly over the dried stains on Castiel’s bare chest and coming to an inevitable conclusion.

 ** _“No!”_** he wailed brokenly as he threw his arms around his father once more. **_“No! They can’t! Tell me they didn’t!”_**

Castiel closed his eyes and held his son closer, breathing in his scent. Dean looked away, wiping the stray tear that had rolled down his cheek. Hadn’t these two angels suffered enough? Couldn’t life give them a break?

Castiel kissed his son’s head as Samandriel sobbed harder, and then he glanced at Dean with red eyes and a defeated expression. It was all too much. He was struggling to hold it together.

“Okay, how about we let Belphegor take a shower first and Samandriel, why don’t you find some clean clothes for him, hm? I’m sure he’d appreciate that.” There wasn’t much that Dean could do to change what had happened to Castiel, but he could take charge now and ensure that the angel finally got to rest. Castiel deserved that much.

Samandriel seemed reluctant, but then he glanced at Belphegor and the demon looked afraid and confused, so he nodded slowly and left the room.

“Belphegor,” Dean said as he crouched down to the boy’s level. “Hey, buddy. I’m Dean – Cas’ friend. You fancy a shower? Get all that gunk off you? Then when you’re done, we’ll take a look at those hands?”

The demon’s hands were bandaged but they had clearly not been done by professionals. Maybe the Devils had bandaged them to stop him from bleeding out on the way to wherever they were planning on transporting him?

Belphegor frowned at his own ruined hands before nodding. He shot a quick glance over to Castiel and the angel managed a weak, reassuring smile.

“Come on,” murmured Dean. “Cas’ll be right here when you get back. I’ll show you where the bathroom is, okay?”

He carefully led the boy into the bathroom and left him to his own devices as he returned to Castiel.

When he made it back into the living room, Castiel had slumped to the floor, back against the wall, wings bedraggled and expression despairing as tears flooded his cheeks.

Dean slid beside him and pulled his head onto his shoulder as he stroked a tacky wing. He fought to not react to the vile stench of Baraqiel coating Castiel’s body and when he kissed Castiel’s head lightly, the angel’s breaths shook and he snaked his arms around Dean desperately.

Belphegor didn’t return after an hour, so Dean carefully untangled himself from Castiel and began a search for him. He heard muttered voices from Samandriel’s room and, unable to resist, he pressed his ear against the door.

 ** _“Your dad is really brave. And so cool,”_** Belphegor said quietly. **_“He saved my life so many times.”_**

 ** _“I know,”_** replied Samandriel, equally as soft. **_“I saw. I was at the police station when you set that horrible angel on fire. Y’know… you’re pretty cool too.”_**

**_“…Thanks.”_ **

Dean smiled and left the pair alone. Castiel needed the break anyway. He wandered back to the living room. “Shower’s free.”

Castiel looked up sharply and hurried to his feet. He nearly ran to the bathroom and Dean remained where he was, not wanting to invade Castiel’s privacy.

The bathroom door opened a couple of minutes later and Castiel popped his head around it with an embarrassed expression.

“What?” asked Dean worriedly. “Oh, did you want me to grab you some clothes?”

Castiel’s eyes widened in realisation and he nodded sheepishly. Dean complied and when he handed the clean items over and made to turn away, Castiel grabbed his wrist. Dean frowned.

“Is there something else you need?”

Castiel hesitated, then gently tugged on his arm. Dean raised his eyebrows.

“You… you want me to come in?”

Castiel nodded.

Dean licked his lips. “Are you… are you sure?”

Castiel pushed the door open wider. Dean crept through it and shut it behind him. They stared at each other for a long moment before Castiel started the shower.

“Do you… do you just want me to stay here or something? I can face the wall or- oh.” Dean quickly averted his gaze as Castiel’s soiled trousers fell to the floor, along with his underwear. He heard the angel step into the shower and twisted his head slowly when he heard no further movements.

The shower door was wide open and Castiel stood in its entrance, naked as the day he was born, features crumpled in fear and hopelessness and desolation. Blue eyes met green.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked gently and when Castiel nodded, he began to strip.

He joined the angel slowly, shutting the glass door behind him. Castiel didn’t so much as flinch when Dean’s arms slithered around him – if anything, the omega melted into the embrace as if he needed the touch to survive.

As Castiel leaned into him, Dean grabbed the sponge and soap to create a lather. He then smoothed the sponge over Castiel’s chest and arms, watching with satisfaction as oil and blood and semen slid down the drain.

He trailed the sponge over Castiel’s stomach and legs and back and neck, and then he drizzled soap over his palm and cleaned Castiel’s face tenderly. The angel’s eyes slipped shut as he pressed his cheek into Dean’s palm, and Dean lightly brushed their lips together as he caressed his omega’s jaw with the lather.

His hand slid lower, down Castiel’s neck, down his chest, down his stomach, and Castiel’s breath hitched when Dean smoothed the soap over his abused penis, between his balls, over his scarred labia…

He curled his fingers around Dean’s arms as the alpha cleaned him. He pressed his nose into that familiar neck and Dean wrapped an arm around him and worked a lather between his ass cheeks. He poured more soap into his palm and ran it between Castiel’s legs again, touch alternating between feather-light and firm as more blood and semen and filth plunged into the drain.

Calloused, careful fingers slipped around Castiel’s dick once more, rubbing, massaging, washing away evidence, and Castiel stumbled a little, holding Dean tighter as he dropped his gaze to the alpha’s hand.

Soapy fingers rolled his balls tenderly before teasing at his clitoris and suddenly, his knees buckled and he collapsed onto Dean with a silent sob.

Dean quickly removed his hand and kissed Castiel’s head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Come on, you’re safe. Let’s get you clean.” Dean had a feeling that it wasn’t the teasing that had scared Castiel. The angel was overwhelmed now that he was home and safe and he was probably feeling very emotional.

If Castiel had been fearful of Dean touching him, there was no way the angel would be clinging to him for dear life right now. He smiled, pleased, when Castiel tilted his chin up to press their lips together.

He rinsed the soap away and grabbed the shampoo bottle. Castiel practically cuddled into him when Dean first raked his fingers through the angel’s hair. He massaged the omega’s scalp, rubbing slow, deep circles into it and Castiel closed his eyes in bliss.

He rinsed Castiel’s hair just as lovingly and then grabbed another shampoo bottle – this one designed specifically for feathers. He thrust his hands into Castiel’s wings, rubbing and massaging until they were covered in bubbles, and Castiel pressed his nose into Dean’s neck happily, pulling their bodies together as the alpha took care of him.

“You like that?” Dean chuckled when Castiel fell against him bonelessly. He watched the water gradually clear of blood and filth as it swept down the drain.

Castiel nodded and tilted Dean’s head towards him before claiming his lips. He tasted minty – he must have brushed his teeth before dragging Dean into the bathroom. Dean wondered if it was to get rid of the taste of Baraqiel.

They kissed lazily as Dean scrubbed Baraqiel’s oil from raven feathers. Castiel’s body was warm and pliant against his own and he relished the feeling of the angel’s arms around him, holding them close. Castiel’s enticing scent was finally coming through now that his fear had dissipated and there was no coppery tang of blood or the nose-wrinkling stench of sex clinging to him. Baraqiel had unfortunately worked his scent deep into Castiel’s feathers and there was no washing it off, but eventually it would fade and, in a few days, Castiel would smell like himself again.

They shared a few open-mouthed kisses as Dean rinsed Castiel’s wings off, and then the alpha trailed his lips over his angel’s throat and chest. He kissed each faded scar and lavished attention over the new marks – bruises and gashes alike – and when Castiel backed up shyly, he placed his fingers around angular hips and pressed his lips firmly to each scar, almost like a promise.

Castiel shuddered beneath his touch and Dean travelled lower, peppering kisses over his wrists and hands and stomach. He kissed Castiel’s thighs and nuzzled at the marks there, and then he got down on his knees. He kissed Castiel’s dick, light and gentle from base to head. He nosed at it affectionately and breathed in Castiel’s scent. He cupped Castiel’s balls carefully and kissed them too and when he looked up, the angel’s wings were trembling and his eyes were wide and stunned. He reached out to cradle Dean’s cheek and the alpha kissed the tip of each finger with a lop-sided smile.

Castiel swallowed thickly and Dean kissed his palm. “Is this okay, Cas?”

The angel nodded.

Dean’s eyes crinkled in delight and he gently pushed Castiel against the cool wall tiles. Castiel fell against them without protest and watched curiously as Dean parted his legs a little more.

Dean tilted Castiel’s hips towards him before burying his face between strong thighs and kissing the abused opening. He worshipped Castiel’s vulva with open-mouthed kisses and chaste kisses and firm kisses and messy kisses, and when Castiel began to shake, Dean lapped at him until slick dribbled down his thighs.

Long fingers tangled in Dean’s hair, pulling his head a fraction closer, and Dean grinned and smoothed his tongue over Castiel’s slit until it slipped inside.

Castiel was warm and wet against Dean’s tongue, but he could feel scars even there, deep inside the omega. He lapped at sensitive tissues and enjoyed the way they rippled against his tongue. He lapped at sweet slick, feeling as though he was cleaning away every last trace of Baraqiel as he explored the angel deeper.

Twitching muscles burned hot against his eager tongue and he brushed them teasingly, making them quiver.

Castiel lost the strength to hold himself upright and he began to slide down the wall, so Dean pulled away from him momentarily to allow him to sit. Castiel stared at him with a bereft expression and Dean grinned back before diving back in.

Castiel’s hand gripped his hair again and Dean sucked at the slick trickling down Castiel’s perineum. He rumbled in approval at the sweet taste, knowing the vibrations would travel straight through the most sensitive parts of Castiel, and then he dipped his tongue into his angel once more.

He teased at twitching tissues and smoothed over fasciculating muscles. He spread Castiel’s legs wider and held them there as he licked and sucked and thrust his tongue in and out of the omega. When Castiel’s abdominal muscles began to tense, he quickly pulled out and peppered feather-light kisses over Castiel’s knees.

There was a soft _thunk_ as Castiel’s head hit the tiles in frustration, and Dean laughed.

“Give me some credit,” he smirked. “You didn’t think I was finished with you, did you?”

Castiel shot him an unimpressed look, but there was curiosity brimming below the surface.

Dean gave Castiel’s slit a cheeky lap. “Angel, I’m going to take you apart slowly, piece-by-piece, until you know what it means to be cherished.”

Castiel inhaled loudly and Dean admired how sexy he looked, all wet and shiny and spread over the shower floor like an offering made just for Dean. He raked his gaze over the omega, wondering which part of him to work on next.

He eyed Castiel’s wings. _Perfect_.

The feathers were wet and slicked together from the water raining down on them, but Dean kissed every inch of Castiel’s left wing anyway as he kneaded and manipulated the limb between his hands. He nuzzled between the feathers and removed damaged ones and then his fingers brushed an oil gland at the top of the wing. He kissed it innocently before circling his tongue around it, and he smirked when Castiel splayed a possessive hand over his back.

He sucked gently at the hidden hole and enjoyed the sight of Castiel stretching against the tiles, then licked at the gland until it loosened and opened up for him. Castiel arched beneath him and Dean hummed at the tangy taste of mandarin. Castiel’s oil tasted exactly as he smelled.

As he worked his way deeper into the gland, he tugged on a few feathers and slid his hand to the base of the wing, where feathers met smooth skin. He squeezed at the junction and rubbed it between his fingers, and Castiel arched against him.

Oil dripped from the gland and Dean lapped it up greedily before beginning to spread it amongst the angel’s feathers. He lapped faster at the gland before sucking at it a little roughly and oil poured from the duct as Castiel’s thighs grew damper. Dean’s wandering hand slipped between Castiel’s legs as he continued to suck at the gland. His finger circled the omega’s clitoris before two slid inside him.

Castiel arched again and curled his fingers around Dean’s wrist as the alpha fingered him agonisingly slowly. Just as that familiar pressure began to build, Dean pulled out of him once more and kneeled above him with an amused grin.

“What?” he asked innocently as Castiel glared up at him.

The angel had a very pretty mouth, especially when he was pouting. Dean cupped his cheek and crushed their lips together. He nipped at plush lips and lapped at them until they opened, and he plunged his tongue inside Castiel’s warmth, claiming every dip and hollow and crevice until Castiel was hauling him closer. He straddled the angel and ravished his mouth once more. He wrapped his fingers around a golden halo and tugged, watching the light grow brighter as Castiel’s head flopped backwards.

Dean admired his exposed throat for a couple of seconds before pushing closer to the angel, basking in the feeling of his stomach brushing Castiel’s as he seated himself in the omega’s lap. He could feel Castiel’s erection pressing against his own, but he ignored it in favour of conquering the omega’s mouth again.

Castiel’s palms swept over Dean’s wet back, tying them together and Dean growled loudly as he pressed the angel to the wall and slid their tongues together.

When Dean finally pulled away, Castiel was flushed red and panting, staring at Dean as though he was the only thing keeping Castiel alive.

Their lips crashed together again desperately as hands clutched hair and halos, and fingers scraped over wet skin. Bodies slid against one another as lips grew bruised and swollen, and then Castiel’s wings swung around Dean possessively, like a passionate claim.

Dean massaged Castiel’s slit with two fingers and Castiel bucked into him with needy jerks of his hips.

Dean tore himself away from Castiel’s mouth with heavy breaths and he slipped his fingers out of the angel, despite Castiel’s attempts to drag him closer.

“Stand up and face the wall,” Dean panted, barely managing to stop himself from touching Castiel as the angel mouthed at his jaw and stroked his sides.

Fortunately, Castiel did as asked and braced himself against the wall.

Dean snaked his arms around the omega’s middle and kissed the back of his neck, across his shoulders, down his spine, to the dip of his waist. He peppered Castiel’s ass with kisses before carefully parting his cheeks and kissing his hole. He smirked as Castiel’s fists curled against the tiles and he smoothed his tongue over the omega’s entrance before sucking experimentally.

Castiel jumped a little and Dean flicked his tongue over the puckered rim once more, teasing at it until it began to loosen.

In all honesty, he had never done this before. He hadn’t even touched a man before, but he knew what he liked experiencing himself and figured he could apply that to a male lover. As he watched Castiel arch again, he assumed that he was doing alright.

He slid his tongue inside the tight entrance and held Castiel’s hips when the angel tried to rock back onto him. After a few minutes of exploration, Dean stood and mouthed at the angel’s neck as he wrapped his fingers around the omega’s straining dick.

He stroked it slowly, gently for a long while as he nuzzled and scented and pressed wet kisses against Castiel’s neck. He didn’t speed up or tighten his grip even when the omega rolled his hips.

When Castiel reached behind him to grab Dean’s impressive erection, the alpha smoothly tangled their fingers together and continued stroking the omega as he shuffled closer, letting his aching dick rest in the cleft of Castiel’s ass.

It was wonderful being able to feel all of Castiel pressed up against him like this; knowing that the omega trusted him to take care of him. Castiel’s wings were trembling either side of Dean as the omega’s head flopped back onto Dean’s shoulder.

Dean lightly rubbed his thumb over the head of Castiel’s dick. “You have no idea how beautiful you are,” Dean whispered against the angel’s neck. “Here, like this… your head thrown back and slick leaking down your thighs and your dick standing tall and thick… I’ll never get this moment out of my head.”

Castiel squeezed his hand and rolled his gaze to Dean’s bright eyes. Dean stared into sparkling sapphires, unable to tear his gaze away.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dean breathed, knowing words would never be enough to express for how he felt about the angel.

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise and he suddenly turned in Dean’s grip and kissed him hard and fierce. Their bodies collided once more as hands roamed over hot skin and then, Dean dropped to his knees and twisted his tongue around Castiel’s straining length.

Castiel clutched at slippery tiles as he fell back against them and Dean licked at the slit at the tip of Castiel’s dick before taking him into his mouth. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and had to restrain himself from rocking into Dean’s mouth.

Dean moved slowly, watching Castiel’s face for every twitch, every silent groan, and he rolled the angel’s balls between his fingers as he worked his tongue around the stiff member.

He traced a vein with his tongue and pulled off to suck at the omega’s balls before latching on again and swirling his tongue around Castiel’s head.

When Castiel tensed, Dean quickly stood up with a devilish smirk and the angel threw him a wrecked look. He gently pulled the omega closer and held him protectively in his arms.

“You sure you’re still alright with all of this?” he asked softly as he nuzzled the angel’s cheek. “I meant what I said about taking you apart slowly, but if it’s too much I can stop? I don’t want you getting uncomfortable.”

Castiel nestled his head on Dean’s shoulder and the alpha admired his relaxed features for a few moments before stroking his cheek.

“Is there anything you’d like me to do? I’ll do anything you want me to. Just show me.”

Castiel flushed pink as he grabbed Dean’s hand and guided it between his legs again. Dean grinned and slipped two fingers inside, humming as slick dripped down the angel’s leg.

“Sit down, gorgeous, so I can properly appreciate you,” Dean purred as he stole a quick kiss.

Castiel looked away shyly but did as he was told and lowered himself to the floor, spreading his legs wide once he was settled. Dean gazed at him hungrily.

“The stars have got nothing on you, angel,” Dean stated before helping himself to Castiel’s slick. He buried his tongue inside the angel once more, sucking and nibbling and thoroughly enjoying himself as Castiel writhed and panted against the wall.

Suddenly, slick flooded out of Castiel as the angel’s wings spanned wide and far, and his halo blew a blinding golden as his eyes flashed a spectacular blue.

Dean sucked and licked the angel through his orgasm until the angel clutched Dean’s hair as he grew over-sensitised. Dean crawled up his body and stole another kiss before flopping beside him and tugging the omega onto his lap.

Castiel gazed at him with a small, lazy smile and pressed their lips together. Dean’s fist curled around the omega’s half-mast dick.

Castiel startled and Dean grinned. “What? Think I’d forgotten about this?” He gave a few slow tugs, feeling the omega’s length stiffen once more in interest. Male omegas had fascinating biology.

Dean mouthed kisses along Castiel’s jaw and cheek as he jerked the angel lazily. He snaked a protective arm around the omega and gently traced his balls before returning to his hard length. Castiel closed his eyes with a soft sigh and nuzzled into Dean’s neck.

He came again a few minutes later, painting Dean’s hand with white and Dean hummed happily at seeing his angel so relaxed. He quickly rinsed his hand and cleaned Castiel up before tugging the angel closer and wrapping his arms around him.

Castiel hesitated before tentatively reaching for Dean’s straining erection and was surprised when Dean carefully grasped his wrist and kissed his head.

“No, it’s not about getting off. This is about you, Cas. It’s about showing you how you deserve to be touched. How you deserve to be worshipped. Taken care of.”

Castiel’s cheeks flushed red and he hid his head in Dean’s neck, clinging to the alpha as though he never wanted to let go.

They began to shiver against the now-cold water pelting their backs.

“Come on, gorgeous,” murmured Dean as he pulled the angel to his feet. “Let’s get you dry.”

He switched the shower off and wrapped Castiel in a huge, warm, fluffy towel. Cold and dripping, Dean towelled his angel off; paying particular attention to his wings. When Castiel was as dry as his feathers would allow him to be, Dean took a step back to grin at the ruffled wings. He looked like a pigeon that had just taken a bath.

Castiel pouted and began drying him off to distract the attention to his unruly wings. Dean stroked his hair adoringly as the angel worked.

Castiel pulled his clothes on as Dean contemplated how much he would scar Belphegor and Samandriel if he darted to his room, butt naked. Before he could grab a towel to wrap around himself, Castiel slipped out of the bathroom and returned a few moments later with Dean’s pyjamas.

It was mid-afternoon but Dean could feel himself flagging. He had been awake for more than thirty hours now, worrying about Castiel for most of it, and he could think of nothing better than a long nap. He took the pyjamas gratefully.

They left the bathroom together, Castiel safely tucked into Dean’s side, and Dean led them to Samandriel’s room to check on the pair.

He knocked lightly and heard a quiet, “Come in.”

They poked their heads into the room to find both children lying on the bed, Belphegor being spooned by Samandriel as the angel curled a protective arm and wing around him. Belphegor's hands bore fresh bandages.

The demon looked embarrassed and refused to meet Castiel and Dean’s gazes.

Samandriel stared at both adults, daring them to comment as he tightened his grip on the demon.

“You two okay?” Dean asked, hiding his amusement.

They nodded tightly.

“Alright well… we’re gonna take a nap and then we can talk about getting you back home, right Belphegor? I’m sure you want to see your parents.”

Belphegor looked up hopefully and nodded again.

Dean smiled. “Awesome. You two get some rest, okay?”

Belphegor nestled into the pillows and Samandriel curled around the older boy, scenting his neck as he did so. Castiel smiled softly at them both and ducked out of the room with Dean.

“Well… that was unexpected,” murmured Dean amusedly. Castiel grinned and nodded.

They arrived at Dean’s room and Dean immediately pushed Castiel into bed and wrapped himself around the angel. “Samandriel had the right idea,” he groaned in relief as Castiel snuggled into him with a golden halo. “I promise I’ll groom you later but can I go to sleep now?” he pleaded.

Castiel chuckled silently and tangled their bodies together until it was impossible to know where one began and the other ended. They closed their eyes, basking in one another’s scents as they lay safely in each other’s arms.

“Love you,” mumbled Dean exhaustedly, before drifting into a land of dreams.

Castiel froze and stared at the sleeping alpha. Slowly, he pressed his lips to Dean’s forehead and tucked himself under his chin.

It wasn’t long before they were both asleep.

 

*             *             *

 

The angel was warm and solid behind him. He smelled of cinnamon and pears and rainforests after a storm. He liked that scent. His wings were soft and silky too – a snowy landscape speckled with black spots; a little like a Dalmatian.

It was strange. He had only met this angel a couple of hours ago and yet here he was, cuddling the other omega. He hadn’t realised how touch-starved he was, but Samandriel must have sensed something, or maybe read his thoughts, because suddenly Belphegor was clinging to him as though his life depended on it.

They had faced similar abuse and they were both omegas, so maybe that was why he was so open to allowing the angel to touch and hold him. The scent was nice too.

It was weird; angels usually wanted nothing to do with him. They always wanted to fight him or flare their wings at him or call him horrible names and tell him how evil and repulsive he was. Even in his cell, angels he had previously been housed with would hit him or snarl at him, and he would do it right back.

By the time Castiel came along, he knew what would happen to the angel. He would eventually leave, like all the others had. Few people wanted pups to work for them when adults were capable of so much more. The adults got out and the pups were always left behind. Castiel would come and go just as quickly.

He glowered at the angel when they first threw him in the cell, but it was only half-hearted. What was the point in being hostile when they would replace him with another adult after a few weeks?

Except, Castiel was different. Castiel hadn’t stood idly by and let him get abused by Phil and Baraqiel. He hadn’t just turned his cheek as the two alphas tried to drag him from the cell.

Castiel had fought for him and protected him and he had rescued him when they tried to throw him in that van. He had saved Belphegor despite everything that had happened to Castiel himself, and he had kept his promise about escaping together.

Then he had met Castiel’s son, Samandriel, and Samandriel knew everything about him. Samandriel had _seen everything_. Yet, he didn’t laugh or sneer or tell him he deserved it. No, Samandriel had given him clothes and cookies from his secret stash under his bed and then told him everything that had happened to him at Ketch’s. They had talked for ages, until Belphegor struggled to carry on, and Samandriel had gently touched his wrist and told him of his power.

Belphegor didn’t even need to speak for Samandriel to understand what he wanted to say.

Before Belphegor had been captured, he had despised angels. He thought they were cruel and evil and arrogant. They were abominations and he made sure that every angel pup who glared at him from across the classroom knew exactly what he thought of them. He had made the trip to the Principal’s office many times for fighting.

He showed Samandriel as much.

In turn, Samandriel told him how he had beaten up some demon pup called ‘Jack’. Apparently, they were good friends now.

Belphegor found himself leaning into Samandriel and Samandriel wrapped his arms around him.

He told Samandriel that he understood now; angels weren’t evil. They weren’t cruel or arrogant. Angels and demons had been conditioned to hate each other for so long, they just didn’t know how else to treat each other.

Samandriel held him close as he nodded in agreement, and gently rubbed the space between Belphegor’s wings.

Somehow, they had migrated to the bed together and Samandriel had curled around him protectively. Belphegor had been embarrassed when Castiel and Dean walked in on them. Was this allowed? Would Castiel be okay with a demon touching his son? It was different now that the desperation and fear of the Red Devils was no longer uniting them in that cell. Would Castiel not want a demon near his pup? Would Dean want him out of his territory?

Samandriel had merely held him tighter, as though he had no intention of letting them take Belphegor away. It felt good to be wanted.

They had allowed him to stay and promised they would take him to his parents once they were all rested. Belphegor had nearly sobbed with relief. It had been over a year since he had last seen his parents. He hoped they hadn’t forgotten about him.

 ** _“They won’t have,”_** whispered Samandriel in Enochian against his neck. There was something comforting about the language. **_“They’re gonna be so excited to see you.”_**

 ** _“I hope so,”_** Belphegor murmured.

Samandriel nuzzled his neck reassuringly. The angel seemed to enjoy his scent as much as he enjoyed the angel’s.

He frowned at his bandaged hands. Samandriel had helped him to wrap them with a little too much practiced skill for such a young pup. He wondered if he would ever be able to use his powers again. Then he wondered if he would even be able to use his hands again.

Samandriel must have heard his thoughts, for he placed a hand over a bandage and seemed to contemplate something.

 ** _“…Give me a sec,”_** he mumbled before untangling himself from Belphegor and running out of the room.

Belphegor immediately sat upright, feeling lost and very alone without the little angel. He huddled in on himself, drawing his wings around his own body as he glanced nervously around Samandriel’s room. He decided that he didn’t like the silence.

When Samandriel didn’t return after a few minutes, Belphegor hopped off the bed and shuffled around the room. He inspected some of the drawings littering every surface and smiled at Samandriel’s talent. He began poking at some of Samandriel’s other belongings; books and CDs and little trinkets he had picked up under Dean’s care. There were a lot of animal toys and ornaments, although Belphegor supposed that was to be expected given his ability.

Despite the sun shining through the windows and illuminating the room, Belphegor couldn’t get that cell out of his head. He paced across the floor, arms wrapped around himself, and tried not to think about the awful things those alphas had done to him.

He eyed the door, mulling over the idea of creeping into Castiel’s room and asking the angel to hold him, when Samandriel suddenly returned and carefully closed the door behind him.

Belphegor crossed the room without thinking and nearly reached for Samandriel before he managed to stop himself. He swallowed down the last trace of his fear and tilted his head curiously at the angel.

**_“What were you doing?”_ **

Samandriel absent-mindedly brushed a hand over Belphegor’s velvety wing and Belphegor leaned into him almost desperately.

 ** _“My friend is coming over to take a look at your hands,”_** he murmured, pulling Belphegor closer without mentioning how embarrassingly needy the demon was behaving. Belphegor would have scolded himself had Samandriel’s hug not felt so amazing. The demon buried his flushed face in the angel’s neck.

Samandriel abruptly veered backwards and stared at him with a hard gaze. **_“You’ve got to promise not to tell anyone though. Not even my dad or Dean.”_**

Belphegor frowned in confusion. **_“Tell anyone about what?”_**

Samandriel shifted uncomfortably. **_“About my friend’s powers. You’ve got to swear that you won’t tell anyone.”_**

Belphegor wasn’t really happy about meeting another angel. What if they didn’t like him? What if they hurt him? He stiffened.

**_“Your friend’s an omega, right?”_ **

Samandriel shook his head. **_“Beta.”_**

Belphegor tensed, eyes sliding to black. Samandriel flinched a little but didn’t let go of him and he had to give the angel credit for not lashing out at him. Usually, angels took an inky gaze as a threat.

 ** _“I don’t want to see your friend,”_** Belphegor said hurriedly, shaking his head as his wings began to tremble. **_“Please don’t let him in.”_**

Samandriel scowled. **_“Jack won’t hurt you. He’s good and kind. He wants to help.”_**

Belphegor paused. Jack? Wasn’t that the demon pup Samandriel had attacked? The one who had lost his mother to Red Devils?

He relaxed a fraction. Jack didn’t sound too bad.

Samandriel’s gaze turned steely and he fanned his wings intimidatingly as he poked Belphegor in the chest. **_“You have to promise not to tell anyone about Jack’s powers. I don’t care what you’ve been through – you’re not allowed to tell on Jack, okay? He’s my best friend and if anything ever happens to him because you can’t keep your mouth shut, I… I’ll hunt you down. Got it?”_**

Belphegor raised his eyebrows. This pup had guts threatening an older demon. Granted, there was less than two years difference between them, but still.

Apparently, Samandriel was a loyal friend.

 ** _“I promise,”_** Belphegor said slowly. What was this spectacular power of Jack’s?

Samandriel relaxed and smiled before dragging Belphegor to the bed again and perching on the edge of it. He toyed idly with Belphegor’s wings, rubbing and scratching in all the best places as though he had done this many times before. Belphegor found himself leaning into the touches with a happy purr and he was nearly asleep by the time something knocked on the window.

He startled and his eyes slid to black as he whirled to face the window. His wings raised slightly in a protective gesture to spare Samandriel from the stranger’s gaze, but Samandriel slid out from behind him and grinned at the young boy lingering by his window.

He let the other demon inside and the boy climbed through the window, stumbling a little over the carpet. He smiled at Samandriel bright and wide, before flicking his gaze to Belphegor.

“Hi!” he said enthusiastically, marching forwards with his hand extended. “I’m Jack.”

Belphegor glanced the other demon up and down. He had dark, mottled oak wings and horns and a mop of shiny brown hair that didn’t quite fall over his eyes. He had a pleasant scent – roasted chestnuts, nutmeg and freshly-baked cookies – but he was very clearly a beta, and Belphegor wasn’t entirely sure that he could trust him. He eyed Jack’s outstretched hand warily as Samandriel came to stand beside the other demon.

Eventually, Jack’s hand fell limp by his side and he shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Um… Samandriel told me about where you’ve been. About… what they did. I mean, I saw a little back at the station when Dean took me, but it was awful and I tried not to look too much because my mom was kidnapped by them too and I didn’t want to think she-” He cut his own rambling off and looked down at his feet.

Samandriel’s hand wandered to Jack’s wing and rubbed slow, soothing circles into it. Jack managed a weak smile.

“Want me to fix your hands?” he asked Belphegor. He frowned sympathetically at his bandages.

Belphegor stared at the other demon in confusion. What did he mean? How was he going to fix his hands?

Jack suddenly stepped towards him and Belphegor was overwhelmed by the scent of _beta_. His eyes sunk to black and he scrambled backwards to the far corner of the bed, flaring his wings intimidatingly as he began to lose control of his breathing.

Confused, Jack started towards him again and Belphegor fell off the other side of the double bed in his efforts to get away from the stranger. He backed himself into the corner of the room and looked around wildly for an escape route as his heart pulsed double time. A memory twisted itself around his mind – one of the betas that had taken him.

He had been walking home from a day playing on his bicycle with his friends. It was a little past his curfew but he didn’t care because he had enjoyed the day with his friends. The sky had faded to bluish-black at some point and a few stars twinkled above him peacefully. He had been walking alone – but he usually walked home alone since his friends didn’t live in the same street as him.

He had nearly been home. He could see his house.

A black van had been following him for the past six minutes. He knew because he had timed it.

He picked up his pace, knowing something was wrong, and the black van’s engine growled louder as it continued to tail him.

The moment he took flight, the van darted forwards and something red flew out of the back of it.

An adult demon soared after him and he raced towards his house in blind panic. He barely recognised the woman’s hand on his wing and he was suddenly wrenched from flight and jerked towards the van. She wore a red mask but she smelled distinctly beta and he flapped his wings violently when she smacked a hand over his mouth. He managed to hit her a few times, but the driver jumped out of the van and took flight as well. She also smelled like a beta but Belphegor was surprised to see dyed red feathers and a halo instead of a repeat of his first captor.

They were strong and rough and they easily overpowered him as they gagged him and tied his hands together, mid-flight. He had never seen an angel and demon work together before – it looked _wrong_.

He was tossed into the back of the van and he quickly clambered to his feet and rushed the demon trying to close the doors.

The angel had reappeared and hit him with a baseball bat that she had retrieved from the driver’s seat.

He crumpled to the floor with an agonised, yet muffled cry. They slammed the doors on him and slid into the front of the van without a word.

They drove away and Belphegor realised that he would probably never see his parents or his cat again.

Suddenly, Samandriel was there with him, holding his shoulder and petting his wing and staring worriedly into his inky gaze. _No! They couldn’t have grabbed Samandriel as well!_

He could still smell the betas, or at least one of them. It was different though; cookies and chestnuts and nutmeg, but it was obviously a beta. How had one of the women changed their scent?

His back hit a corner and he whimpered. He was still in the van, wasn’t he? Trapped in the dark with his hands bound and his mouth gagged and his face throbbing and bruised. If he could just find an opening, a way out…

 ** _“Belphegor!”_** Samandriel said desperately. **_“Belphegor, you’re safe! You’re safe! You’re in my room! No one is going to hurt you.”_**

Belphegor’s mind began to clear and he blinked at the concerned angel for a few moments before remembering that he had already been rescued.

He was shaking. He could feel his wings trembling and tears were streaming down his cheeks. He glanced at his untied wrists and sobbed with relief before sliding down to the floor and crying. He was humiliated by his own irrational fear and ashamed of allowing Samandriel and Jack to see him so weak. He was supposed to be older than them; stronger. He was supposed to comfort them, not the other way around.

He couldn’t even protect himself. He couldn’t fight off those betas and he had never been able to fight off Baraqiel despite the angel coming to visit him so often. He hadn’t even been able to save his own hands, and now they hurt and he was useless and dirty and weak and no one would ever want to be near him again. His parents wouldn’t be able to see him as anything but tainted and damaged and they would hate him for letting himself be captured. His friends probably wouldn’t even remember him after going missing for over a year.

He huddled in on himself as he cried. He used to be so strong and confident; now he felt filthy. Unclean. Broken goods. He was worthless and everyone would be able to see it. They would be able to smell how disgusting he was.

He startled as Samandriel sat beside him and wrapped him in his wings. He tried to pull away, not wanting to taint the little angel, but Samandriel held fast and tugged him closer as he slipped his arms around him.

Belphegor broke down against his shoulder and clutched at his shirt as Samandriel gently petted his wings.

 ** _“You’re not dirty,”_** Samandriel murmured calmly. **_“You’re not broken or disgusting or worthless.”_** He rubbed his cheek against Belphegor’s and then began smoothing his palms and wrists over the demon’s wings and arms, transferring his scent.

 ** _“You’re a hero. You saved my dad. You fought back. You_ beat them** **. _”_** Samandriel rubbed his palm over Belphegor’s other cheek tenderly, bathing the demon in his scent. He made sure to squeeze Belphegor’s horns and the back of his neck, and then he slipped his hand up Belphegor’s shirt and rubbed his scent into his bare back and sides.

Belphegor shivered at his warm palms and pressed closer, desperate to be marked by the comforting scent. How did Samandriel know exactly how to look after him?

He jumped when a third hand touched his shoulder and he whipped around to stare at Jack with wide, fearful eyes, but then his hands began to tingle and warm and he looked down at them curiously.

Samandriel carefully unravelled his bandages as Jack continued to hold his shoulder and soon, Belphegor was staring at his own healing skin. He watched the holes in his hands seal shut before feeling the rest of his body tingle and heat up and his jaw dropped in shock as all his bruises and cuts and old scars faded away, leaving new unblemished skin.

He slowly dragged his gaze to Jack and the beta smiled at him nervously.

 ** _“…You okay?”_** Jack asked quietly.

Belphegor couldn’t find any words. His jaw worked open and closed for a few moments before snapping shut. He stared at the beta.

Jack frowned sadly. **_“You didn’t deserve any of that.”_**

Belphegor couldn’t feel any pain. There was no blood or bruises. No scars. No physical evidence left.

He didn’t know what to do. He trembled violently. Why was he still crying? Why was he still sniffling when Jack had healed him?

Samandriel held him tighter and continued to mark him casually. “Jack,” he said softly.

Jack blinked in surprise and slid off the bed. He took Belphegor’s other side and lowered himself to the floor, then very tentatively wrapped his arms around the older demon.

A wrecked sob punched out of Belphegor’s throat and he squeezed his eyes shut and let himself be held. Samandriel nuzzled his hair as Jack’s wings slowly swung around them all.

 ** _“It’s okay,”_** Jack murmured. **_“You’re safe now. We promise. We won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”_**

Logically, Belphegor knew they couldn’t protect him against the Devils, but it didn’t matter. They were holding him and he wasn’t in pain and they smelled nice and he felt _so safe_.

 ** _“You can cry,”_** Samandriel whispered. **_“It’s alright. We understand.”_**

Belphegor yanked them both closer and sobbed until his lungs ached and he had no more tears left. He trembled between them and Jack slowly began to mark him too, until there wasn’t a single scent of that prison cell on him.

Eventually, Samandriel ushered the three of them to his bed and Belphegor found himself in the middle of the mattress, Samandriel and Jack wrapped around him protectively, their wings stress across him and their arms tight around his body.

He hadn’t realised how much he craved affection.

He closed his eyes as they scented at him and wondered if maybe he wasn’t so disgusting after all. Maybe he wasn’t dirty and worthless even if he was a little bit broken.

But maybe that was alright because maybe Jack and Samandriel could help to fix him.

 ** _“…You won’t tell anyone, will you?”_** asked Jack quietly.

Belphegor smiled and shook his head. He understood now why Samandriel had been so protective of his friend, but he didn’t need to worry; Jack was good and kind and Belphegor would never tell anyone about his powers after what he had done for him.

 ** _“Your secret’s safe with me,”_** Belphegor whispered. **_“Promise.”_**

Jack grinned and curled around him more snugly.

Cocooned in the warmth of Samandriel’s feathers and Jack’s velvety wings, their arms wrapped tightly around him and their legs tangled together as his skin radiated their soothing scents, Belphegor fell asleep with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all asked for fluff so here is your wish ;)


	25. Reunited

Samandriel was shocked into wakefulness by Jack’s frantic scrambling. His eyes flew open and he levered himself up on one arm to peer over the confused Belphegor at his friend, who was desperately trying to fight off the sheets and roll onto the floor.

Castiel was also in the room, looking just as dumbfounded as everyone else.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jack babbled as he ran towards the window, tossing a fearful look over his shoulder at the older angel. “I wasn’t hurting him, I promise! I would never hurt Samandriel!”

He quickly slid the window open, shaking his head hurriedly as he planted his hands on the sill in preparation to hop through it.

Samandriel and Belphegor stared at him in surprise, but Castiel seemed to finally understand Jack’s nonsensical explanations and strode towards him. Jack whimpered and climbed onto the sill, but before his feet could touch the grass outside, Castiel placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Jack flinched, but when he wasn’t dragged back inside, he slowly lifted his nervous gaze to the angel.

Castiel offered him an apologetic expression and took a step backwards before fishing his pen and paper from his pocket. He wrote a short message and carefully passed it to the little demon.

 

_I’m sorry, Jack._

Jack frowned at the message for a moment and startled when Dean barrelled into the room in a panic.

“What’s happened? What’s going on? Jack? What are you doing here?” he rushed out in one breath.

Jack ducked his head guiltily and eyed the grass below.

“I asked him to come,” Samandriel piped up. “To… uh… to make Belphegor feel more comfortable. Y’know, because they’re both demons.”

Understanding his cue, Belphegor nodded emphatically and subtly pulled his sleeves down over his unblemished skin.

Neither Dean or Castiel seemed to buy the explanation, but they nodded anyway. Castiel returned his gaze to Jack and handed him a new note.

              

_I am truly sorry about how I have treated you. You have done nothing to deserve my contempt and it was horrible of me to do the things I did. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of me and I wish I could take my actions back._

Jack tilted his head and slowly swung his legs back into the room. He remained perched on the windowsill, fingering the notes for a moment before risking a glance up at Castiel.

“It’s okay,” he murmured quietly. “I get it. Angels and demons aren’t supposed to like each other.” He glanced over at Samandriel and swallowed. “I just don’t think I could ever hate Samandriel. I mean… he’s funny and smart and he’s amazing at drawing and he helps me with my Enochian, and when Ryuk and the other bullies pick on kids, he always defends them. He’s such a nice, kind person and I know he beat me up that one time, but even that was pretty cool and it wasn’t really his fault.”

Jack turned to Castiel with a defiant frown. “I don’t understand why demons and angels have to hate each other, but I won’t stop being friends with the coolest kid at school, even if you don’t want me to play with him outside. He’s my best friend and despite you hating me, I won’t give him up that easily.”

“Jack…” Samandriel breathed, touched. Castiel’s wings sagged a little and he scribbled out another message.

 

_It’s not ok, Jack. None of what I did to you was ok. Angels and demons are allowed to like each other – it’s just that stupid jerks like me can’t let go of a war that doesn’t even make sense. You are a good fledgling and you have been very kind and loyal to my son, yet I thought it acceptable to hurt you merely because you have horns instead of a halo. There is no excuse for what I did and I am disgusted by myself. _

_Samandriel is very lucky to have a friend like you and I hope that his horrible, prejudiced father won’t scare you away._

Jack’s eyes widened as he reached the end and he looked up at Castiel curiously. “…You… you want me to be friends with Samandriel?”

Castiel nodded; a small, sad smile touching his lips.

Jack dropped his gaze to the note again. “I’m sorry for kicking you,” he mumbled.

Castiel’s lips quirked upwards and he crouched down and passed the demon his response.

 

_Self-defence. I shouldn’t have hit you with my wing and grabbed your collar._

Jack managed a weak smile and stared at his feet. “What made you change your mind about me?”

Castiel flicked his gaze to Belphegor and Jack nodded in understanding.

“When I saw you hugging him on the computer at the station, I thought that maybe I had done something wrong and you just didn’t like me,” Jack admitted. Castiel shook his head.

 

_No; I hit Belphegor when he tried to cut the ropes from my wrists. I’m just a really horrible person._

Jack grinned and fluttered his wings a little as he met Castiel’s gaze. The angel smiled back at him apologetically.

“You’re not horrible,” Jack said softly as his gaze tracked to the scars peeking up above Castiel’s collar. His expression fell with sympathy. “You’ve been through a lot and you got scared, just like Samandriel did when he first met me. It’s okay, I understand. Samandriel has nightmares sometimes when I sleep over and he tells me about the stuff you went through. He’s usually okay when I hold him, but it all sounds so awful. I just hope my mom-” He cut himself off and dropped his gaze to his feet again.

“What’s your mom’s name, kid?” Dean asked gently, hoping to distract him from his sudden cloud of grief.

“Kelly Kline,” replied Jack. “She had the shiniest caramel wings and these really thin, delicate antlers. She was the prettiest, kindest mom ever.” He huddled in on himself. “I really miss her.”

Dean had gone pale in recognition at the name. It was the demon he and Gordon had been called out to all those months ago – the one that had been stabbed and thrown onto the curb side. She had died in front of them whilst the paramedics attempted to stop her from bleeding out.

He had no idea that she had a kid. He wondered how his colleagues had explained her death to Jack. He hoped they had been gentle.

Castiel offered him a querying frown and Dean made a few jerky hand movements. Samandriel gasped from the bed and Castiel’s eyes widened then softened with sympathy. He returned his gaze to Jack.

 

_You are welcome here any time. I don’t know if you have anyone at home, but if you ever want to talk about her, we’ll all be right here._

 

Jack smiled at him gratefully. “Thanks. Bessie doesn’t know how to talk about any of that stuff and the two angels I live with…” He pulled a face. “Well, they don’t like me very much so I try to stay out of their way. They’re a bit mean.”

Both Castiel and Dean frowned in concern but chose not to comment.

“Well, come over any time you want,” Dean said. “I’m sure Samandriel won’t mind the company.”

Samandriel nodded enthusiastically and Jack beamed. Suddenly, he hopped off the windowsill and threw his arms around Castiel. Castiel jumped in surprise but eventually returned the hug, if a little awkwardly.

“Thank you,” whispered Jack. “I was really lonely before Samandriel came, so I’m glad you’re letting us be friends.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows, heart aching. He tugged Jack a little closer and rubbed the space between his wings comfortingly until the demon purred.

“Hey, does Bessie know you’re here?” Dean asked when the epiphany struck.

Jack pulled away from Castiel sheepishly. “I… uh… I left a note?”

Dean closed his eyes with a sigh and waggled a finger at the demon.  “You can vouch for me when the police come to arrest me for child abduction.”

Jack grinned as Dean slipped out of the room to call his guardian.

“Breakfast?” Castiel mouthed after a moment.

The three children nodded enthusiastically.

 

*             *             *

 

Castiel finally noticed it when Samandriel had to stretch to reach three glasses from an overhead cupboard.

He grabbed the first two without much problem, but he had to stretch a bit further for the third and his shirt rode up a little, revealing his back.

Castiel dropped the packet of bacon he was holding and marched over to his son. He lifted Samandriel’s shirt, ignoring the boy’s panicked protests and his frantic shoves, and stared at the unmarked skin of his back. He whirled Samandriel around and inspected his stomach and chest until Samandriel slapped his hands with a sharp growl.

Castiel raised his eyebrows and Samandriel immediately ducked his head in shame and pulled his shirt down.

Castiel folded his arms and waited.

 ** _“It’s makeup,”_** Samandriel lied. **_“I hated seeing them in the mirror so I stole some makeup from the store.”_**

Castiel continued to wait.

 ** _“It is,”_** Samandriel insisted. **_“I didn’t have any money so I stole it. I didn’t want to ask Dean because I didn’t want him to pity me.”_**

“Didn’t want me to pity you over what?” Dean asked as he ambled into the kitchen, phone in hand.

Castiel grabbed his son’s arm and drew his sleeve up, revealing unblemished skin. Dean’s phone clattered to the floor.

“What the-”

Samandriel yanked his hand from his father’s grip with a glare. **_“I stole makeup.”_**

Dean blinked. “You _stole_ makeup?”

Castiel shook his head irritably and crossed his arms. He scowled at his son as Dean prowled further into the room.

“Samandriel, stealing is a criminal offence. You can get into a lot of trouble for it, so I really hope you’re lying, in which case we’ll still be disappointed in you. What happened to your scars?”

Samandriel visibly began to panic as he thought of ways to distract the adults from the question.

 ** _“You’re not my real dad,”_** he snapped at Dean. **_“You don’t get to boss me around. I don’t care what you think.”_**

Dean reeled backwards in surprise, hurt flickering over his features. A wave of guilt washed over Samandriel and he startled when Castiel angrily thumped a cabinet with his wing. Castiel’s eyes glowed a furious blue and Samandriel winced.

“I did it,” Jack blurted.

Samandriel looked over at his friend in horror as Castiel and Dean turned to him in confusion.

Jack toed at the wooden floor. “Don’t be mad at him. He’s just trying to protect me. I healed him.”

Castiel’s eyes faded to their natural colour as Dean scrunched his nose up, still lost.

“I can heal people and animals,” confessed Jack. “I healed Samandriel and I healed Belphegor, but I asked them not to tell anyone because my mom always said that if anyone found out what I can do…” He averted his gaze nervously. “I’m sorry. I know it’s selfish. I have a gift that could help a lot of people. I just… I don’t want people using me or forcing me to do stuff. What if someone found out and they made me heal a really bad person? Or they hurt people for fun because they know I can make them better again? Or they hurt a bunch of animals and keep making me heal them so they can torture them over and over again?” He wrapped his arms around himself.

Castiel’s wings drooped as Dean’s mouth drew into a thin line.

“We won’t tell anyone,” he promised quietly. “We wouldn’t put you in danger like that. Thank you though, for healing Samandriel and Belphegor. That was good of you.”

Castiel slowly raised his gaze to Dean and stared at him for a few moments, unnoticed.

 ** _“I’m sorry, Dean,”_** mumbled Samandriel. **_“I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t mean any of that stuff.”_**

Dean sighed. “I know. I get it. You were protecting your friend. I can’t grumble at you for that. I don’t like that you lied but I guess it was either that or throw your friend into the frying pan.”

Samandriel screwed up his face at the analogy and Dean shook his head. Jack observed Castiel for a little while as the angel slowly returned to the dropped bacon. Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose and grabbed two coffee mugs.

The two adults worked in silence for a few moments as the three children stood by the door helplessly, uncertain how to proceed.

“I can heal you too,” Jack said softly.

Castiel paused, bacon sizzling in the pan. Dean subtly flicked his gaze to the angel as he continued cracking eggs open.

“I can take the scars away,” continued Jack, venturing towards the older angel.

Castiel set the pan aside and, without looking at Jack, wrote out a message and held it out for the demon to take.

 

_I don’t deserve your kindness._

Jack scrunched his nose up. “You do,” he stated firmly. “Give me your hand.”

 ** _“Go on, Dad,”_** Samandriel whispered.

Castiel swallowed and shifted his gaze to the innocent demon staring up at him with his hand outstretched expectantly. Jack really was pure of heart – even after everything Castiel had done to him.

“Go on, Cas,” Dean encouraged quietly.

He crouched down and gently took Jack’s hand, and the demon frowned in concentration, tongue poking out from between his lips.

Castiel’s entire body began to tingle and warm and he felt Jack’s grace slide through him – a little rough and inexperienced as he mended all of Castiel’s broken bits, but strangely soothing as well. It was a bit like a thick woollen blanket; a little scratchy in parts, but mostly soft and warming.

He watched the scars on the back of his palms fade away and he smiled in amusement when Jack’s tongue poked out a little more, frown deepening.

Suddenly, Castiel’s throat _burned_. He couldn’t breathe and his free hand automatically clapped around his neck as he tried to yank his arm from Jack’s grip. However, Jack held on tight, squeezing his eyes shut as he poured more grace into Castiel, and Castiel gasped as his throat blazed hotter. He tried to scarper away from Jack, grabbing the boy’s hand desperately as he attempted to throw it off, but Jack growled at him in frustration and grabbed both of his arms instead.

Eventually, the heat was too much to bear and Castiel slammed a wing against a cupboard; the bang startling Jack enough for Castiel to push him away and crawl to the other side of the room, chest heaving as he clutched at his neck.

Jack stared at him in dismay. “I wasn’t finished.”

“You melted my neck!” Castiel said hysterically.

The last egg smashed over the floor.

Jack perked up in surprise. “Oh. Maybe I was finished.”

Castiel stared at him incredulously, then frowned, and then his eyes blew wide.

“I can… speak.”

Jack nodded and Dean had to hold himself up using the counter.

Samandriel launched himself at his father with a huge grin. “Dad! You can talk again!”

“I can talk again,” Castiel repeated dumbly, his own gravelly tones both foreign and familiar to him.

“He can talk again,” Dean mumbled from the corner of the room in disbelief.

“Jack, I…” began Castiel as he turned a grateful gaze upon the demon. “I don’t know what to say.”

“If he says anything in _that_ voice, I won’t be able to stop popping boners,” Dean muttered to himself, barely holding himself over the counter.

“Dean,” scolded Castiel sharply.

Dean glanced down at himself. “Ah, crap.”

Jack frowned. “What’s a boner?”

“It’s not important,” Dean grimaced.

“It means that his knot just started paying attention to the conversation,” smirked Belphegor.

“Screw you,” huffed Dean, forgetting his audience once again.

“I think you mean ‘screw Castiel’,” grinned Belphegor.

“Breakfast, anyone?” Castiel asked with flushed cheeks. He scuttled to the hob and returned to the bacon, avoiding Dean’s gaze.

After a few minutes, Dean turned around, thankfully PG-rated in his appearance. “Cas… you have your voice back.”

A slow smile crept across Castiel’s face and his wings fluttered in excitement as his halo shone a joyful golden. “Yes. And all of my scars are gone.”

Dean huffed out a laugh, overwhelmed. He glanced down at Jack, who was happily sipping at a glass of orange juice beside Samandriel; the young angel’s wing curled around him protectively as Samandriel rubbed velvety wings in gratitude.

“Kid, you are freakin’ amazing, you know that?”

Jack beamed at the praise and then ducked his head shyly.

“Jack… you have no idea how sorry I am for what I did to you,” Castiel said as he glanced down sadly at the demon. “How I treated you was unacceptable. You really deserved none of it and I can only hope that you forgive me one day. What you’ve done for me is… incredible and I don’t deserve it.”

Jack frowned. “You do deserve it,” he said again simply, as though it was a well-known fact.

Castiel turned the hob off and bent down to gather the demon into a grateful hug. “Thank you,” he whispered as Jack smiled against his chest and snuggled into him. “You can have extra bacon,” he breathed beside the demon’s ear.

Jack laughed and squeezed Castiel affectionately. “See? You’re not horrible.”

Castiel stood again and grabbed a few plates. He eyed Dean, unimpressed. “The bacon’s ready and the eggs are still raw.”

Dean startled and glanced at the raw eggs yet to be made into omelettes. “Yes, they are.”

Castiel shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Useless alpha,” he teased before stealing the bowl of eggs.

Dean licked his lips and watched Castiel begin work on the omelette batter. He swallowed drily as the angel hummed an ACDC song and he knew that he was irreversibly head-over-heels for the omega. This had been the final straw. The return of his voice had encouraged this playful side of the angel and now there was no going back for Dean. This was it. The point of no return. There was no other person for Dean.

Castiel suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out his notepad and pen. He tossed them onto the counter.

“Won’t be needing those anymore,” he grinned, wiggling his wings.

Dean marched towards him, plucked the pan from his grip and set it aside, before sweeping the angel into his arms and kissing him deeply.

There was a chorus of ‘ _eww_ ’s from the children and they quickly fled the room.

Dean pulled backwards to gaze adoringly at his angel. Castiel grinned, expression brimming with excitement.

“I can speak,” Castiel whispered, a little shakily.

The corners of Dean’s eyes crinkled. “You can speak,” he agreed.

Their lips met again, soft and tender.

“I love you,” Castiel breathed against Dean’s lips.

Dean’s eyes widened, heart thumping loud in his ears. He surged forwards to pepper Castiel’s neck with kisses and hummed at the scent of happy omega. He curled his arms more securely around his angel and pressed his nose deep into sun-kissed skin.

Castiel stroked his hair affectionately and wrapped his wings around them both. They stood like that for a little while, elated by this unexpected development as they relished one another’s scents.

“Say something,” Dean murmured against Castiel’s neck.

“Such as?”

“Anything,” huffed Dean. “Let me hear your voice.”

Castiel paused thoughtfully before nuzzling his alpha’s hair. “I love living here with you. I love how you treat Samandriel as though he’s your own. I love how you teach us to take care of the animals and the land. I love how patient you’ve been with us – how you’re not afraid to tell us when we do something wrong. I love that you’ve never treated us as anything less than people.

“I love that you’re protective of us without being overbearing. I love how you’ve never once treated us as fragile despite knowing what has been done to us. I love that you want to learn about us and that you’re willing to take part in our culture. I love that you gave me a way to communicate without a pen and paper. I love how you never forced us into doing anything we weren’t comfortable with. I love how you found Samandriel a school and me a job when it wasn’t expected of you.

“I love the way you take care of us. I love the way you hold Samandriel through the hard times and bring him happiness when he needs it most. I love the way you offer me space when I need it and then give me affection when I need you with me. I love that you’re the type of alpha that respects omegas and treats them no differently to any other designation. I love that you listen to me, even when I have no voice. I love that you never pity me or act repulsed by me – even after seeing what happened in that prison.

“I love your smile and the way your eyes crinkle at the corners. I love your little half-grin when you’re trying not to laugh. I love the way you lick your lips when you’re thinking hard. I love the way your hair fluffs up every morning when you get out of bed. I love the way your freckles darken in the sunlight. I love your laugh and the way you shove your hands into your pockets with a lowered gaze when you’re feeling shy or embarrassed. I love how your eyes sparkle when you’re truly happy.”

Dean had wedged his face into Castiel’s neck, so the angel gently tilted his chin up and caught his gaze with an adoring smile.

“Like that,” Castiel whispered, smoothing his thumb over the alpha’s cheekbone.

Dean glanced at the floor and Castiel chuckled and kissed his head.

“I feel so safe around you, Dean. I love knowing that you’re beside me and I know I can put my faith in you to come save me when I need you to. I love how you protect me. I love that I can trust you without a single doubt – whether that’s with Samandriel, with policework, or with our relationship. I’ve slowly fallen in love with you, and I can only hope that I’m able to show you how much.”

Dean rumbled deeply in satisfaction as he backed Castiel against the countertop and mouthed at his neck and jaw. Castiel closed his eyes with a contented purr as Dean lavished him with kisses and gentle nips. His hands wandered under Dean’s shirt as the alpha’s grasped his feathers and cupped the back of his head. Castiel leaned into the warm palm and easily bared his throat for Dean, smiling when the alpha made a delighted noise and painted it with wet kisses.

Bodies pressed together, Castiel relaxed against his alpha and basked in the attention. Finally, Dean lifted his head to meet the omega’s gaze.

“I love you too, Cas.”

Castiel’s wings fluffed ecstatically and Dean chuckled before pressing their bodies closer and claiming the omega’s mouth. He shut his eyes against Castiel’s blazing halo and rumbled at the idea that he had made his omega the happiest he had ever been.

They shared a few more kisses, unable to tear away from one another now they both knew that their deep feelings for each other were returned. Eventually, they had to return to the omelettes, although their chests heaved with panted breaths and bright grins lit their faces. Castiel made sure to keep a possessive wing around his alpha at all times.

As they distributed omelettes onto plates, Dean glanced at Castiel from the corner of his eye.

“You have a really sexy voice, by the way.”

Castiel’s cheeks flushed pink as his halo bloomed red. His feathers ruffled a little and Dean knew that he was flattered by the compliment. He chuckled in amusement at the angel’s shyness.

Castiel licked his lips and turned his gaze to the alpha. “I guess you’ll enjoy my dirty talk then.”

Dean’s laughs fell silent and he stared at the angel with wide eyes. Castiel winked at him playfully and scooped up four plates before gliding out of the room.

Dean trailed after him like a lovesick puppy.

 

*             *             *

 

After returning Jack to his guardian, Castiel, Dean, Belphegor and Samandriel made the long journey to Belphegor’s home. The station had decided that Castiel and Dean should be the ones to reunite the little demon with his parents and Castiel found himself bursting with nervous excitement alongside Belphegor.

He had chosen to sit in the back with the two fledglings and Dean had only smiled at his decision and said nothing as they both listened to the pair formulate plans as to how they would keep in contact and meet up in the following weeks.

They arrived at an average-sized house with an unkempt garden and dirty walls. It wasn’t that the place looked uncared for or abandoned, it merely appeared less pristine than the identical houses either side of it.

There was a moment where Belphegor paused as he gazed at the house he hadn’t seen in over a year. His wings drooped a little and for a brief second, he lost his nerve and leaned away from the window. Castiel placed a solid hand on his shoulder and he glanced over at the angel nervously.

Castiel offered him a reassuring smile as Samandriel wiggled his wings.

“Go on,” Samandriel said impatiently.

Belphegor swallowed and opened the door, then lingered just outside it. He turned back to Castiel. “Come with me,” he pleaded softly.

Castiel blinked then slid out of the car. He followed the demon up to the house, a protective hand on his back as he began to realise that he knew nothing about Belphegor’s parents. What kind of people were they? Would they care that Belphegor had been missing for a year? Would they be happy that he had returned? Were they good parents to Belphegor?

Did they even still live here?

It seemed to take all of eternity before the door opened and Castiel subtly steeled himself to fight off any threats to the young demon.

A haggard female face appeared behind the door. She looked exhausted in a bone-deep way – as though she hadn’t seen a good night’s sleep for many years. She was plain-looking but she wore stylish clothes even though no make-up had made it into the outfit. She was a beta and she had dark hair – the same shade as Belphegor’s – and her wings were an attractive canvas of deep blue and purple splashes. Her horns were short and stubby and one of them had been sheared at the tip.

She stared tiredly at Castiel for a moment before a scowl tugged at her brows and her eyes slid to black as her wings raised in a well-practiced movement where angels were involved. She opened her mouth to ask Castiel what he wanted, but was caught off-guard by Belphegor’s choked cry.

**_“Mama.”_ **

She froze and slowly turned her gaze to Belphegor as though not trusting her own ears. She stared at him in a stupor for a long moment until he surged forwards and threw his arms around her, and even then, she didn’t react.  

Finally, tears spilled over her cheeks.

“Belphegor?” she asked timidly, voice hitching.

Belphegor grinned up at her with wet eyes and nodded before squeezing her tightly again and sobbing into her chest. She cried brokenly and held him to her, wrapping her wings around him and babbling nonsense in Enochian as she kissed his head and clutched at his wings.

Castiel remained silent as he watched them, heart filling with joy and sadness and a hundred other emotions he would never be able to identify.

A minute passed and an alpha male demon with long, corkscrew horns and maroon wings joined his wailing mate, a confused frown creasing his brow. He narrowed his eyes at Castiel before he caught sight of what his mate was sobbing over.

Castiel knew a demon agent when he saw one. This alpha had all the scars and muscles of a man well-versed in fighting, and there was a hard, calculating look in his eyes that only special forces developed. Even the way he held himself in Castiel’s presence – braced and assessing possible attack points – spoke volumes of what his career path had been before he had sought refuge on Earth.

Castiel could very well have fought this demon back when he was a member of The Host. They may have even been of similar ranks.

But the alpha took one look at his son and all of that training melted away. He crouched down and gathered Belphegor and his mate into his arms and he wept with them as he nuzzled and scented at his long-lost son.

Castiel smiled and averted his gaze in an offer of privacy.

It was a few minutes before a strong hand landed on his shoulder and he startled a little and couldn’t help but tense as the alpha demon stared at him. He must have seen in Castiel what Castiel had seen in him, for he squared his jaw and raised his wings a little in warning.

Suddenly, the expression faded and he squeezed Castiel’s shoulder gently with a slight nod.

 ** _“Dad,”_** Belphegor said pointedly. **_“This is Castiel.”_**

It struck Castiel that Belphegor knew of his father’s previous profession. He gave the demon a surprised look and Belphegor seemed to bite back a knowing smirk.

Belphegor had known all this time that his father could have possibly fought Castiel back on their respective worlds, yet the little demon had said nothing. He had put a lot of trust in Castiel.

 ** _“Thank you,”_** breathed Belphegor’s mother as she looked up at Castiel. **_“Thank you for bringing him home.”_**

 ** _“You’re welcome,”_** Castiel replied softly.

 ** _“Come inside for a bit,”_** the beta offered, already corralling her son into the house. **_“Tell us what happened.”_**

Castiel glanced over his shoulder at the Impala and the alpha demon cleared his throat gruffly.

**_“You can bring your friends.”_ **

Castiel caught the demon’s gaze and the alpha tilted his chin defiantly, almost daring Castiel to argue. Castiel nodded and gestured for Dean and Samandriel to join him.

Samandriel bounded towards the house with fluttering wings and ploughed into Belphegor as they entered the house. They grinned at one another and Belphegor dragged Samandriel over to the couch before the little angel pounced on him again and dried his tears with his sleeve.

Belphegor’s mother smiled at the scene and took a seat next to her son, chuckling when Samandriel offered his hand and his name.

His father was a little more tense as Dean joined Castiel and he seemed to size Dean up for a moment, straightening as the pair stepped into the house together. Dean offered him a friendly smile and a handshake, refusing to rise to the sudden spike in alpha pheromones.

“Hey, I’m Dean.”

“Astaroth,” said Belphegor’s father warily. “And my mate; Scylla.”

“Pleasure to meet you, man,” grinned Dean. “You’ve raised an awesome kid.”

Astaroth tilted his chin proudly and relaxed his scent. He gestured for Dean and Castiel to sit.

“Oh! Drinks?” Scylla asked in a clipped accent, jumping to her feet. “You are hungry? How far you travel?”

Dean held a hand up in the negative and seamlessly switched into an easier language for her.

**_“We’re good, thanks.”_ **

She slumped onto the couch again and Astaroth took the seat beside her. After a moment of gazing at their son, they turned to Dean and Castiel with neutral expressions.

 ** _“Was it bad?”_** asked Scylla quietly.

Castiel closed his eyes as Dean licked his lips and nodded. Belphegor fell silent and leaned closer to his mother as Samandriel began rubbing his wings comfortingly.

 ** _“How bad?”_** demanded Astaroth. He glanced sharply at his son. **_“How bad?”_**

Tears collected in Belphegor’s eyes. **_“Really bad.”_**

Astaroth snarled furiously as Scylla burst into hysterical sobs. Castiel swallowed and sought out Dean’s hand. He needed the extra strength for this next part.

He began to explain.

When he had finished, Belphegor’s parents couldn’t even meet his gaze.

The young demon trembled as he watched his parents break and he whimpered gratefully when Samandriel slipped his arms around his middle and held him. He grabbed Samandriel’s hand, desperate to share his turmoiled thoughts with someone and Samandriel made a wounded sound and leaned his head between the demon’s wings.

 ** _“I’LL KILL THEM!”_** Astaroth roared as he leaped to his feet and Castiel reared backwards instinctively as Dean placed a protective arm around him.

 ** _“Give me their names,”_** Astaroth demanded, turning to Dean with an inky gaze. **_“Give me their names and tell me where they are.”_** He flared his wings wide and bared his teeth furiously.

 ** _“They’re in police custody,”_** said Dean calmly as Castiel’s halo grew more and more silver with every passing second. He flashed his eyes, unable to stop the knee-jerk reaction at being in the presence of a livid demon, and Astaroth snarled loudly at Castiel in challenge. He took a step towards the angel, seemingly unable to help himself, and Castiel’s wings sprung outwards, eyes burning brighter.

 ** _“Dad,”_** Samandriel and Belphegor yelped in unison.

Castiel immediately closed his eyes, breathing through his mouth to reduce his intake of the repugnant scent of alpha demon rage. Astaroth was not angry at him. The demon was ready to kill, but it wasn’t Castiel’s blood that he was after.

Castiel licked his lips and took a deep breath and when he opened his eyes, they were back to their ocean blue. He forced his wings to relax and worked himself down from his current fight-mode. Astaroth might have been his enemy at one time, but they were on the same side here.

He blinked up placidly at the demon.

Astaroth looked away with clenched fists and wet eyes. His breaths were noisy and stilted and when his mate burst into tears again, he slumped into his seat and dropped his head into his hands.

Scylla gathered her son into her arms and bawled into his shoulder. **_“My little boy. My innocent little boy,”_** she babbled over and over.

Dean tugged Castiel a little closer and the angel leaned into him without protest. He could smell Dean’s distress. He gestured subtly for Samandriel to join them, knowing that having his family around him would help to soothe the alpha. Samandriel did as asked and, as expected, Dean relaxed a fraction.

 ** _“You brought him back to us,”_** Scylla said suddenly, turning her dark, distressed gaze to Castiel. **_“You protected him and brought him back to us. I can’t even begin to…”_** she trailed off as fresh tears stained her cheeks. She shook her head and buried her face in Belphegor’s neck, scenting at him deeply.

 ** _“Thank you,”_** Astaroth whispered, sincere gaze focused on Castiel. **_“Going through all that for a demon pup… You’re a better man than I will ever be, Angel.”_**

Castiel managed a weak smile as Astaroth and Scylla turned their full attentions to fussing over their son.

Dean stood and Castiel followed quickly.

 ** _“We’ll head off. Belphegor has my number if you need us. The police will contact you if we require any information.”_** Dean paused and offered them a sympathetic gaze. **_“I’m so sorry.”_**

Astaroth nodded tightly before returning to his son. Dean gently slipped his hand into Castiel’s and led the angel to the door, but before they could leave, Belphegor darted off the couch and attached himself to Castiel.

Castiel startled but when the demon buried his face in his stomach, his gaze softened and he hugged Belphegor tightly.

 ** _“You… you won’t forget about me, will you, Angel?”_** Belphegor asked quietly. **_“We’ll see each other again, right?”_**

 ** _“Of course,”_** replied Castiel, lightly brushing his lips over the demon’s head as he closed his eyes. How could he ever forget about Belphegor? This little fledgling had saved his life in that prison. He had kept Castiel sane – given him something to focus on.

Astaroth and Scylla remained silent as Castiel absently began to scent mark their son. They merely raised their eyebrows when Belphegor sighed happily and leaned into the familiar movements. Castiel caught himself at their expressions and smiled guiltily before taking a step back.

 ** _“I will see you soon, Belphegor. I promise,”_** said Castiel. Belphegor nodded sadly and watched him trail out of the house after Dean and Samandriel.

When the car finally rolled out of sight of the house, Castiel blew out a shaky breath and slumped into the seat. Walking away from Belphegor had been harder than he had expected. In a very short span of time, the young demon had become his charge – part of his little flock. Flocks were supposed to protect and care for one another, and Castiel felt like he had just ripped out a part of his own grace by leaving Belphegor alone – even if he was with his parents.

He ran a hand through his hair. It felt a bit like losing a child.

His feathers ruffled. He wanted to turn around and return to Belphegor’s side. He wanted to comfort the boy and reassure him that he was safe. He wanted to smother the demon in his scent and protect him from the outside world. What if Belphegor’s parents turned on him now that they knew the truth of all he had faced? What if they were secretly abusive? What if Belphegor was taken again and Castiel wasn’t there to save him?

A hand squeezed his thigh and Castiel flicked his gaze to Dean.

“He’ll be okay,” Dean said softly.

Castiel let his head thump against the back of the seat. Dean was right. He was getting his feathers ruffled for nothing. It said a lot that Dean didn’t need to hear him speak to know what he was thinking – they had learned so much about one another in such a short space of time.

Dean continued to stroke his thigh comfortingly. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered.

Castiel blinked and tilted his head at the alpha.

“Astaroth,” Dean clarified, eyes glued to the road. “Even I was getting a bit tense there but you kept calm. You held it together. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come, Cas. How far both you and Samandriel have come.”

Castiel’s lips quirked upwards and he settled into Dean’s side, smile widening when the alpha’s arm curled around him possessively.

He _had_ come a long way from when he first met Dean. He had never believed all those months ago that he would find himself risking everything for a demon. He had never believed that he would fall head over wings for an alpha. He had never believed that he would get his voice back; that his scars would be taken away by a demon fledgling. He had never believed that he would find freedom again.

He glanced up at Dean, taking in the alpha’s handsome jaw and the proud quirk of his lips. He nuzzled into Dean’s neck affectionately, breathing in his happy alpha scent and the soothing aroma of freshly baked bread, leather and cedar wood.

He brushed his lips against the soft skin of Dean’s neck and sighed. He had a home with someone who loved him. He had an alpha who took care of both him and his son, despite being under no obligation to do so.

Castiel couldn’t even let Dean knot him, yet the alpha loved him anyway. His heart thumped hard against his ribcage and his fingers curled around Dean’s thigh. Were they moving too fast or was this just what true love felt like? His affection for Hannah paled in comparison to this.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean asked, brow furrowing slightly in concern as he flicked his gaze to the angel.

Castiel smiled weakly and nodded. He felt light and airy; as though he was living in some sort of dream. Dean truly wanted him and Samandriel. After knowing everything they had faced, after putting up with their aggression towards him, after dealing with their prejudices, after watching Castiel be raped and humiliated in front of the entire KPD, Dean still wanted both angels. Considered them family.

Castiel buried his face in Dean’s neck and the alpha rumbled softly in an instinctive attempt to soothe him. His arm wound tighter around the angel and he nuzzled Castiel’s hair.

“Cas?”

“You deserve better,” Castiel realised, the words tumbling from his lips like an anguished revelation. “You deserve more than this. You deserve so much more than I can give you.”

His wings were trembling and he couldn’t seem to stop them. He could see the blue and purple glow of his halo reflecting back at him through the windscreen.

Dean’s eyes widened as Samandriel whined in distress and confusion behind them.

“You can do so much better than me,” Castiel whispered through hitched breaths. “I have nothing to offer you. I can’t… I can’t even let you…”

Dean slowed to a halt at the side of a quiet road as Castiel struggled to breathe. His chest burned and he felt as though he was drowning. He couldn’t even look at Dean; couldn’t bear to see the disappointment and pity that would surely be shining in his eyes.

The engine grew silent and Dean gathered Castiel into his arms and kissed his face until he opened his eyes again. The angel shuddered in Dean’s arms as he cast his gaze to the floor, and Dean nuzzled his cheek until he finally raised his head.

“There is no one better than you,” Dean said simply.

Castiel shook his head. “I don’t deserve you. I’m scarred and broken and repulsive. I have been knotted by more alphas, whipped by more betas, used by more angels and demons and humans than I will ever be able to remember. You deserve far better than I can ever hope to be.”

Dean growled and kissed Castiel’s mouth firmly. He tugged the angel closer and buried his fingers deep into silky feathers as his other hand skirted under Castiel’s shirt to splay protectively over his back.

“You’re wrong,” Dean rumbled. “You’re strong and smart and stubborn and you’ll protect Samandriel with your life. You’re willing to learn from your prejudices and you saved a kid multiple times despite knowing what would happen to you. You can be infuriating sometimes and you have a tendency to think so little of yourself, but you don’t seem to realise just how freakin’ gorgeous you are. When you had scars, I thought you were sexy and I’ve still not changed my mind.”

Dean growled again and claimed the angel’s lips hungrily. He pinned Castiel against the seat and straddled him before rearing backwards with narrowed eyes.

“You’re more than I deserve.”

Castiel trembled beneath Dean’s strong grip. He should have been afraid of an alpha pinning him down. He should have been fighting to get away; bolting out of the car with Samandriel clutched tight to his chest. He should have felt panicked and defensive.

There was righteous anger in Dean’s gaze and a low growl vibrating continuously in his chest. Castiel could see that the alpha was tense and determined as he set his glare on Castiel, and his scent reeked of authoritative alpha pheromones.

Castiel was trapped with a furious alpha.

He yanked Dean closer and buried his nose into the alpha’s neck. He smelled _amazing_. Like _home_ and _protectiveness_ and _safety_ ; Castiel had never smelled anything like it.

“You saw what Baraqiel did,” Castiel whimpered, uncaring of his neediness. “Why would you want second-hand goods?”

Dean snarled and scraped his teeth over Castiel’s neck – a claim and a promise rolled into one. He sucked a deep purple bruise into tanned skin and grasped one of Castiel’s wings before settling his free hand on the angel’s bare hip.

“You’re mine,” hissed Dean. “You and Samandriel belong to me and I’ll kill that angel if I ever see him. I’ll kill him for ever laying a finger on you.”

Castiel was suffocating from the possessiveness and fury radiating from Dean, yet he didn’t want it to stop. Why wasn’t he scared?

“Yours?” Castiel breathed, eyes glowing an electric blue.

“Mine,” Dean agreed with a snarl. “You’re both mine and I’m yours. I’ll fight for you and I’ll stand by your side and I’ll try to be the alpha you both deserve, even if it kills me.”

Castiel whined at the thought of losing Dean. He snaked his arms around the alpha and tugged him close, nuzzling desperately at his neck.

“I hate that I couldn’t protect you from him,” Dean whispered as he nosed at Castiel’s neck. “I hate that I couldn’t save you.”

Castiel snuggled into his alpha with a weak smile. “You did save me. You saved me from losing Samandriel. You saved me from being thrown into a psychiatric institute. You’ve given me a safe home and work and you defended me against Ketch. You’ve given me a whole new life when I thought I would never have one.”

He closed his eyes and basked in Dean’s homely scent. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this safe.

Dean growled again; pleased and protective and proud. He kissed the omega’s head tenderly and slid into the driver’s seat once more, tucking Castiel into his side with a rumble.

Castiel grinned when Dean began rubbing his wrists over his bare skin as he fired up the engine.

“Well, I’ve gotta make sure people know you’re off the market,” huffed Dean quietly, gaze not quite meeting Castiel’s. Castiel chuckled and nodded, relaxing into his side as he allowed the alpha to scent mark him.

“Can I open my eyes now?” asked a small voice from behind them.

Dean flushed red as Castiel laughed. “Our deepest apologies, Samandriel. I’m not sure what happened there. I suppose I felt suddenly overwhelmed by everything. It won’t happen again.”

Dean nuzzled his cheek as Samandriel finally cracked an eye open.

“Next time, give me a warning. I don’t want to be here for when you two screw each other’s brains out.”

Dean made a choked sound as Castiel glared at his son. He smacked his head gently with a wing and Samandriel cackled.

“A _lot_ of sexual tension, guys.”

“Samandriel,” scolded Castiel as Dean sunk lower in his seat, hiding his face behind his hands. "You've been spending far too much time with Belphegor."

“Whatever. Can we please go now? I really need to pee,” Samandriel chirped with a smirk more suited to the demon they had just left behind.

Castiel rolled his eyes as Dean eased Baby onto the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys all guessed it! Jack's powers came in handy for Cas! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the bit of fluff at the end ;)


	26. A Shocking Surprise

The bed was warm and soft and every inch of it radiated their combined scents. Castiel purred unabashedly as he lay on Dean’s chest, the alpha nuzzling his hair and petting his wings and scent-marking him lazily as he attempted to will himself into the bathroom in order to go to work.

Castiel propped himself up, hovering over Dean, before grazing the alpha’s lips with his own. Dean rumbled happily and tugged the angel onto him as he stole a few chaste kisses, which eventually turned into a deep, loving meeting of tongues.

After a few minutes, Castiel nestled into Dean’s neck with a smile and the alpha returned to stroking his wings and scent-marking his bare torso.

“Cas? Can I ask you something?” Dean hummed quietly.

Eyes closed, Castiel nodded, pressing a sweet kiss to Dean’s shoulder.

There was a long pause before Dean gently squeezed the angel. “What’s your power?”

Castiel froze and Dean hurried to explain.

“I’m just curious, that’s all. I mean… I know Samandriel can understand animals, Jack can heal people, Belphegor can shoot fire out of his hands… I was just wondering what you can do. It’s been bugging me since you came here, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, so I didn’t ask.”

Castiel was stiff and tense, refusing to meet Dean’s gaze. The alpha deflated a little.

“It’s okay, Cas. You don’t have to tell me.”

Castiel pressed his face deeper into Dean’s neck and Dean held him close, feeling as though he had overstepped. Castiel obviously didn’t like talking about his ability, which unfortunately only made Dean more curious. However, if the omega didn’t want to talk about it, then Dean wouldn’t push the matter. It wasn’t as though it changed anything between them anyway.

Although it stung that Castiel didn’t trust him.

“I’d never think any less of you, you know,” whispered Dean. “No matter what your power is, it’ll never change my opinion of you being the smartest, sexiest, strongest, most caring person I’ve ever met. You’ll always be incredible to me.”

When Castiel still didn’t look at him, Dean sighed and kissed his head. “Sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

“Give me time,” Castiel finally whispered. “I’ll tell you, but I… I can’t just…”

Dean’s gaze softened, mood picking up. He kissed his omega’s cheek. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

Castiel nodded and released a quiet breath as he snuggled into Dean once more.

“I’ve got to get up,” Dean mumbled. “Work starts in an hour and I’m not even out of bed.”

Grinning, Castiel snaked his arms tighter around Dean and closed his eyes. Dean chuckled. “I really have to get up.”

Castiel tangled their legs together with a happy purr.

Heart thumping wildly in his chest as he let his gaze wander over the happy angel and his fluffed wings, Dean smoothed a finger around his golden halo.

“Shower with me?”

Castiel prised an eye open in interest.

“You don’t have to,” murmured Dean, fascinated by the ethereal texture of Castiel’s halo. When he wasn’t concentrating, his fingers would slide right through the ring, as though it was merely composed of light. “Just thought it would be nice.”

Castiel stretched and rolled out of bed, fanning his wings slightly in a mildly erotic display omega that angels used to entice a love interest into taking note of them. Whilst Dean wasn’t an angel, he could still admit that the display got him at least a little hot and bothered.

He kicked off the covers and followed Castiel into the bathroom, smiling at the domesticity of finding him brushing his teeth. Maybe the wing display had been more of a subconscious thing than any real temptation.

They went about their morning routine together; shaving, brushing, peeing, before finally stepping into the shower.

They shared tender kisses as they soaped one another up and Dean was pleased to see Castiel confident in himself. He allowed Dean to touch him all over and didn’t hesitate in touching the alpha. His halo never wavered from its joyous golden glow and Dean nuzzled his omega’s neck with pride. Castiel had come so far.

Suddenly, fingers curled around Dean’s dick, rubbing sensually as Castiel’s mouth latched onto Dean’s shoulder.

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise, watching his dick straighten to attention as Castiel fisted him slowly. This was new.

Curious, Dean pulled his omega closer and massaged a wing base as his other hand slid around Castiel’s own dick. It was half-mast and Dean’s lips pulled into a knowing smile as he realised that their shower must have excited Castiel, even if only a little.

Castiel made a soft sound and dropped his head onto Dean’s shoulder as the alpha began to stroke him. He rubbed his thumb over Dean’s head, paying careful attention to the slit before sinking his hand back to the base and squeezing lightly. He closed his eyes as Dean copied his movements, then slowly curled his fingers underneath Dean, rolling and manipulating his balls until Dean returned the gesture.

Castiel hid his face in Dean’s neck and edged forwards until their bodies were flush. Dean held his omega securely but couldn’t help the pleased rumble that vibrated through his chest when their dicks pressed into each other. He felt Castiel smile against his chest before the omega curled his fist around them both and jerked them slowly.

Dean hummed and tilted Castiel’s chin up so he could seal their lips together and the omega finally relaxed, snaking his free arm around Dean’s back.

They kissed lazily as Castiel’s fist tied them together, and Dean palmed Castiel’s ass for a few moments before sliding further beneath him and teasing a single finger over his slit.

Castiel immediately pushed closer and Dean smirked, sinking his finger between the flaps of Castiel’s wet labia.

Castiel rocked his hips, unable to help himself, and Dean growled quietly in pleasure as the omega’s cock ground hard into his own.

He sank another finger into Castiel, scissoring him open, and Castiel mewled and pumped them both faster.

Instinctively, Dean backed Castiel into the cool tiles of the wall as their tongues tangled heatedly. Castiel clutched at his back as Dean fingered him, gentle but relentless, and the angel squeezed their cocks and jerked them harder.

“I want to hear your voice,” Dean growled hotly as he managed to tear his mouth away from the angel’s. “Talk to me.”

Castiel glanced up at him with exasperated and slightly desperate eyes. Dean curled his fingers inside the omega and smirked at his hissed curse.

“Come on, Angel,” Dean panted, feeling a familiar pressure building low in his belly. “I wanna hear that gorgeous voice of yours.” He thrust his fingers deeper inside the angel and held the omega up when his knees buckled.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Dean whispered.

Castiel’s head thunked backwards against the tiles. He gave a harsh jerk of his wrist and Dean made a breathy sound as he pinned the angel to the wall, bodies plastered together.

“I want you to rut against me,” Castiel breathed, eyes closed as he bared his throat further. “I want you to suck at my throat and tug my wings.”

Dean growled again and rolled his hips against Castiel’s, alternating between fast and torturously slow, gentle and too much friction. He gripped Castiel’s wing and attacked his throat with tongue and teeth, rumbling when Castiel groaned.

“Keep going,” commanded Dean before sucking a small hickey into the angel’s neck.

“I… I want to please you,” Castiel said shakily. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Squeeze harder and grab my ass,” Dean grunted.

Castiel quickly obliged and Dean tugged sharply at Castiel’s wing, wringing a delicious moan from him.

“Go on,” Dean ordered.

“I think you’re hot,” Castiel blurted. “I think about you all the time. I want you. I want to give you everything and I get so angry with myself when I can’t; when my own stupid fears hold me back.”

Dean shoved a third finger inside the omega and curled them roughly until Castiel whined. “They’re not stupid fears,” Dean growled. “And I can wait the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to be comfortable. I want you for more than sex, Cas.”

Castiel gasped as Dean rutted harshly against him. He tightened his grip on one fleshy ass cheek.

“I know,” he breathed. “And I love how patient you are.” He arched as Dean’s fingers spread inside him.

“Keep talking,” Dean rumbled.

“Do that again,” Castiel begged, whining when Dean did. “I love this,” he whimpered. “I love knowing that I’m yours. I love knowing that once we step out of the shower, everyone will be able to smell you on me. Everyone will know who I belong to.”

“Say that again,” Dean snarled, slamming his hips into Castiel’s as his alpha instincts ran into overdrive.

Castiel tugged their dicks sharply and suddenly claimed Dean’s mouth as though he needed it to breathe.

“Yours,” he panted. “I’m yours. Every inch of me belongs to you. I’m all yours, Alpha.”

Dean slid a finger into Castiel’s oil gland and watched the omega tremble. He nipped at the angel’s neck with a deep growl and thrust his fingers in and out of Castiel’s dripping vulva.

“I want to taste your slick,” Dean hissed. “Want to watch you fall apart as I sink my tongue into you.”

Dean startled when Castiel growled and tightened his grip on their stiff, aching cocks. “No,” snarled the angel. “No, you’ve taken enough care of me. It’s time I returned the favour.”

Dean gasped as their positions were abruptly flipped and Castiel had Dean pinned up against the cool wall. The angel dropped to his knees and before Dean could ask what he was doing, Castiel swallowed him all the way down.

“Cas!” Dean cried as the angel began to bob his head, sucking and working his tongue over every inch of Dean’s steadily swelling knot. He tangled his fingers in the angel’s hair and watched Castiel’s pretty lips turn red and slick.

The angel toyed with his balls as he worked Dean’s knot mercilessly and when Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to keep going for much longer, he hauled his beautiful angel to his feet and smashed their lips together as he gripped both of their leaking dicks.

He shoved a thumb into Castiel’s oil gland and pumped their cocks hard and fast, swallowing Castiel’s needy whines.

He spilled over Castiel’s dick and his own hand, but kept jerking them both until the angel whimpered Dean’s name and painted him with spatters of white.

Castiel fell against Dean with a huff, nuzzling into his neck as the alpha wound his arms around the angel and admired his flushed skin and ruffled feathers. Castiel clutched at Dean’s biceps and sealed their lips together, needy and desperate, and Dean hummed in pleasure and held his omega close.

After a few minutes of kissing and scenting at one another, Dean nuzzled his angel’s cheek. “You okay?”

Castiel nodded and raised a hand to his wing, collecting a drizzle of oil from one of his glands. He carefully smoothed his fingers over Dean’s jaw and down his neck and Dean bared his throat with a contented rumble, allowing the angel to rub his oil down his throat.

Castiel collected more oil and slid his palm down Dean’s chest, wings fluttering when the alpha didn’t protest.

“Come to work with me,” Dean murmured as he watched Castiel mark him.

The omega raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think your boss would approve.”

Dean stroked his omega’s cheek and admired his sapphire eyes. “No, I mean come to work with me permanently. You’re an amazing agent, Cas. The station would be lucky to have you.”

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise. “…Dean… I can’t do that. I’m an omega.” He shook his head. “I’m not even human.”

“So what?” Dean scowled. “We have plenty of omegas working at the station. And who cares if you’re not human? I know we don’t have many angels or demons working for us, but it’s not because we don’t want them there. You’d be welcomed by the team.”

Castiel seemed to search Dean’s gaze for something before his brows furrowed. “…You would really allow me to work in the police force? You’d allow me to work alongside you?”

Dean cupped his angel’s cheek, a concerned frown marring his features. “You aren’t my property, Cas. You can do whatever you want. And I’d love to work with you; I think I could learn a lot from you.”

“You… you wouldn’t get irritated with me?” Castiel whispered. “I wouldn’t like to embarrass you or make it seem as though I was more skilled in policework. You are the alpha after all and as an omega, I understand I will always have to work under you and-”

“Hey,” interrupted Dean, holding his omega’s face between his hands. “Hey, none of that. I don’t care if you end up being Chief of Police and I’m just one of your many lackeys… I want you to do something you enjoy, and I know for a fact that you enjoy solving crimes and helping people. Watching you work that mission in that distribution centre… you were… something else. You were like a whole other person. You were incredible.” Dean pressed their foreheads together.

“I want you to be happy. I want you to enjoy your life here.”

Castiel released a shaky breath and snuggled into Dean. “I’m happy with you,” he breathed. “I’m very happy with you, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t help but puff out his chest a little. “You’ll come see Victor with me today?”

Castiel nodded excitedly.

Dean rumbled again, equally ecstatic and rubbed the angel’s wings as he peppered kisses over his face. “I get to show you off,” he grinned.

“Everyone will smell me on you,” said Castiel, eying Dean’s oiled chest worriedly.

Dean smirked. “Let them. I want them all to know who I belong to.”

Castiel stared at Dean, stunned, then claimed his lips heatedly. “Usually, the alpha marks the omega,” Castiel said quietly. “Are you sure you’re alright with my… claim?”

Dean chuckled and nipped his omega’s throat. “Very sure. Good to know I’m wanted.” He flipped the shower off. “Come on, let’s get you dry. We’re already late for work.”

Castiel beamed.

 

*             *             *            

 

“Castiel! It’s good to see you. How are you?” Victor greeted, a smile on his lips and a coffee in his hand as Benny and a few others swivelled their heads to grin at Castiel in pleased surprise.

“A lot better now that I’m out of that place,” chuckled Castiel.

Victor dropped his mug and Benny stumbled over his own chair.

Dean and Castiel frowned in confusion.

“You…” Victor raised a shaky finger. “You can speak.”

Castiel’s eyes widened and he glanced at Dean, panicked.

“Surgery,” Dean said quickly. “We got a second opinion and it turns out the damage wasn’t that extensive. Cas is as good as new.”

Victor stared at them. “…You got surgery in the four days between getting out of that facility and coming here?” He edged towards Castiel curiously. “I can’t even see a scar.

“Makeup,” Castiel said quickly, taking a step backwards so the Chief couldn’t make a detailed inspection. “I’ve started using makeup to hide all of my scars.”

Victor glanced at him apologetically and backed up. “Oh. I see. You have good makeup – it doesn’t look as though you’re wearing any.”

“Hey, mind giving me the name of the stuff you use?” Benny asked. “Andrea would kill for a natural look like that.”

“Sure, you want it for _Andrea_ ,” cackled another officer.

Benny grinned and threw a pen at the other man. “Shut it, Darren. If I want professional foundation to blend with my skin tones, I’m getting the best there is.”

There was a round of laughter and teasing and Victor shook his head. “Alright. Alright. Get back to work, children. Leave Benny’s skin routine out of it.”

There was another bout of chuckling before the team did as ordered and Victor turned to Castiel and Dean with a lingering grin. “So, I assumed you’ve come here for a reason. What can I do for you?”

Dean relaxed a little, relieved that Victor seemed to have forgotten about Castiel’s sudden ‘surgery’. “So… we were wondering if there’s any place for an angel agent on the team?”

Victor cocked an eyebrow and turned to Castiel. “Oh?”

“I understand that I may not be your first choice, being an omega and an angel – one who’s not even completed the servitude programme… but I was hoping that you might consider hiring me?” Castiel tried. “I really do enjoy policework and I have plenty of experience from my home planet. You wouldn’t even have to pay me a full wage – I’d work extremely hard and I’d grab drinks and lunch for the station, anything you want, and-”

“Woah, woah!” Victor said, holding his hands up to stop Castiel. “Castiel. You being an omega and an angel doesn’t affect my decision in the slightest and if I were to employ you, you would receive the correct wage for your rank. You wouldn’t be expected to act as a butler to the station.” Victor crossed his arms. “Now, unfortunately, we aren’t actually hiring at the moment.”

Castiel’s wings sagged and Dean’s heart ached for his angel.

“That being said,” continued Victor, “you are possibly the most skilled person in this room and I think the team could benefit from you. Why don’t you step into my office and we can discuss your options?”

Castiel perked up and glanced at Dean. The alpha grinned and offered him a thumbs-up before Victor chuckled and guided Castiel to his office.

 

*             *             *

 

“After you, Agent,” Dean smirked as he held the door open for his angel.

“Thank you, Detective,” chuckled Castiel with flushed cheeks as he scurried into the familiar reception. He laced his fingers with Dean’s and they climbed the stairs together, Samandriel and Jack in tow, and entered the classroom.

Jack and Samandriel were immersed in their own conversation, and Jack glanced around the mismatched room with a curious gaze and an excited smile as Samandriel gave him a rundown of their teacher and classmates.

Dean and Castiel had decided to continue with their signing lessons despite no longer needing them. Just because they could communicate verbally now didn’t mean that they would never meet a deaf or mute person again. Signing could prove useful later on.

Jack just liked being with Samandriel and he had revealed that since Bessie had grown sick a few days ago, the angels he lived with had developed a short temper with him. He no longer wanted to go home when the two angels who lived there just wanted him out of the way so that they could tend to Bessie. Jack also suspected that they didn’t trust him not to take advantage of Bessie, since he was a demon. He had tried to explain to them that he would never hurt anyone, but they had merely scoffed and turfed him out of the human’s room.

Samandriel was quite happy to have his best friend all to himself. The other angels’ stubbornness was Samandriel’s gain and Jack was more than content to go home with his friend every day after school and only return to his own house late in the evenings.

The four chose a table and immediately, Zephon strode over to them.

“Dean. I was beginning to think you were no longer interested in my class. It’s good to see you again,” he smiled warmly before casting his gaze to Jack. “And you brought a friend! What’s your name?”

“Uh… Jack,” the little demon said. He glanced between Samandriel’s smirk and Castiel’s glower, confused by the strange reactions to the friendly angel with beautiful gold and violet wings.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Jack. My name is Zephon and I’ll be teaching this class. If you have any questions or you need a bit of help with anything, don’t be afraid to call me over, alright? Have you had signing lessons before?”

Jack’s wings lifted at the angel’s amicable nature. “Only what Samandriel has taught me.”

Zephon glanced at Samandriel with a smile. “Are we a good teacher then?”

Samandriel grinned and nodded, although the way he glanced at his father mischievously told Jack that his friend was merely trying to annoy his dad by answering Zephon’s question as enthusiastically as possible.

Zephon didn’t look at Castiel as he stood, instead returning his attention to Dean. “Well, it’s a pleasure to have you back, Dean. I assume you were busy?”

“Work,” Dean offered, side-eying Castiel when the omega pointedly slipped a hand over his thigh.

Zephon didn’t seem to notice. “You’re a detective, correct? Such noble work.”

Dean quirked his lips into a smile as he slotted his hand over Castiel’s in soothing. “Yeah, that’s right. Although, Cas is the one you should really be impressed by. He just made Agent.”

Zephon’s smile wavered as he flicked his gaze to Castiel. “…Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” said Castiel with a sharp grin.

Zephon blinked and snapped his gaze to Dean, mouth hanging open slightly. “He can talk.”

“He can hear pretty well too,” sniped Castiel.

Zephon scowled. “You’ve never spoken before.”

“Never had anything nice to say,” smirked Castiel before Dean elbowed him. “Surgery on my larynx. I can speak. It’s a miracle.”

Zephon pursed his lips. “I see. I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“I suppose they are.”

Zephon’s wings lifted a little in challenge and Castiel raised his own just as quickly, making Samandriel bite back a laugh and Jack stare at them both with wide eyes as Dean attempted to keep a straight face. Now that he knew of Zephon’s crush and Castiel’s jealousy, the peacocking was quite amusing.

Zephon left their table to begin the lesson. Every so often, he would join their table under the pretence of helping Dean and Jack, but it was clear that he just enjoyed being able to touch Dean and ‘correct’ his hand movements. At one point, Castiel threw a wing around Dean as Zephon was getting a little too handsy, and Dean had to bite back a snicker when Zephon glared irritably at the other omega.

When the lesson ended, Jack excused himself to the bathroom and Samandriel excused himself to show the demon where the bathroom was.

The room cleared quickly, leaving Castiel, Dean and Zephon alone.

After a moment of hesitation and a glance at the bathroom, Zephon wandered over.

“I was wondering if you’d had any further thoughts on our… private lessons, Dean? Coral Cove is under new management and I hear their steaks are delicious.”

Immediately, Castiel tensed, halo spotting with green. Zephon ignored him.

“Actually, Zeph… I think I’m gonna have to pass on the extra lessons. Work’s real busy at the moment, you know?” Dean said apologetically. He didn’t want to hurt the angel’s feelings, but he didn’t want to lead him on either. If he could just give him a couple of hints that he wasn’t interested…

Zephon licked his lips nervously. “I see. Then perhaps you could make time for a date? Friday evening, maybe?”

Castiel’s feathers ruffled in anger as Dean grimaced. So much for a couple of hints.

“Ah… I don’t think so. Sorry, man, I’m… um… I’m already seeing someone.” Well, this wasn’t awkward at all.

Zephon frowned. “You are? You never talk about them.”

Dean side-eyed Castiel. “I kinda do.”

Zephon glanced between Castiel and Dean and finally seemed to understand. However, instead of his wings sagging, Zephon’s wings spanned a little wider in challenge, halo fading to emerald.

“You’re with Castiel.”

Confused at the annoyed tone, Dean nodded and watched Castiel’s wings rise to the bait, a scowl on his features. “Do you… do you have a problem with that, Zeph?” Dean asked carefully.

“A little, yes,” huffed Zephon, wings puffing up when Castiel’s halo speckled with black.

Dean stared between the two angels helplessly. This wasn’t how he had expected this to go.

“It’s a good thing that neither of us care what you think then, isn’t it?” Castiel nearly growled.

Zephon’s halo swirled with jealous green and angry black and Castiel’s quickly mirrored it as he copied the other omega’s hostile posturing.

“You’d better treat him well,” warned Zephon. “If you hurt him…”

“You’ll what?” Castiel demanded, outraged. “You barely even know Dean. What right do you have to threaten me?”

Zephon ground his teeth together. “Promise me something, Dean. When Castiel fails to treat you as you deserve, you’ll at least give me a chance?”

“How dare you,” snapped Castiel as Dean frowned.

“Guys…”

“I have nothing against you personally, Castiel,” said Zephon lowly. “But Dean and I click together. It’s rare to find an alpha as perfect and kind as him and I refuse to give him up without a fight.”

Dean pulled a face and Castiel stretched a possessive wing around the alpha.

“There’s nothing to give up,” snapped Castiel. “You never had him.”

“We have chemistry,” Zephon protested as he turned to Dean and fanned his wings in an erotic display meant to tempt. Castiel’s eyes flashed blue in fury.

Dean quickly averted his gaze, cheeks pink. He didn’t know a whole lot about angel wing displays, but he could take a wild guess at that one considering how similar it was to the gesture Castiel had offered him on the way to the shower.

Zephon wilted a little at the rejection.

“He isn’t interested,” Castiel hissed.

Zephon stared at Dean. “Dean, if you’d just give me a chance-”

“Man, you’re kinda overstepping here,” Dean said firmly. “I’m happy with Cas. Really happy. I like talking to you, but you need to back off.”

Zephon’s wings drooped before tucking close to his back in shame. “…I’m sorry.”

Finally, Castiel’s wings relaxed a fraction and he sidled closer to Dean, prompting the alpha to curl an arm around him.

“I’m flattered. Really, I am,” said Dean. “But I’m all Cas’. Sorry if you felt I led you on somehow.”

Zephon toed the ground embarrassedly. “My sincerest apologies, Dean. I didn’t mean to offend you.” He hesitated before turning his sheepish gaze to Castiel. “You too, Castiel. I crossed a line and I shouldn’t have.”

Castiel relaxed further and leaned into Dean’s side, accepting the apology but still a little wary.

Zephon rubbed his arm awkwardly. “Alphas in The Silver City were never… they were never kind to me. Alpha angels never see omegas as more than… ah…”

“A place to stick their knots?” Castiel finished drily.

Zephon winced and nodded, lowering his gaze. “I was forced to mate by my parents when I was thirteen. The alpha they chose was… strict. She treated me like a servant. Everything I did displeased her and her punishments were… rather cruel. I despised our mating and tried to flee, but she caught me and…” A haunted look flickered in his gaze before he shook his head. “A demon bomb hit our street. It caused enough wreckage and chaos that I managed to slip away whilst she was distracted. I came to Earth eight years ago to escape her and I promised myself that I would never get into a relationship again.”

Zephon glanced at Dean guiltily. “But then you came along and you’re sweet and kind and you smell so, so safe. I’m constantly terrified of my mate finding me, but when you’re around, that all melts away. I feel… protected around you. You’re a very unusual alpha.”

Dean’s gaze softened, heart aching for the angel. Even Castiel sagged a little, wings drooping low.

“I’m sorry. I overshared,” Zephon grimaced. He whirled on his heel and made towards the front of the class, shoulders hunched and wings dragging along the floor.

“Hey, wait a second,” Dean called. “You didn’t overshare. It’s okay.”

Zephon paused and glanced over his shoulder timidly. Castiel gingerly left Dean’s side, allowing his alpha to approach the other omega.

“Look, man… I’m glad you feel safe around me. It’s my job to protect people. And I’m sorry you had to go through all that with the alphas on Heaven. It really sucks.” Dean shuffled his feet uncomfortably; he wasn’t good at emotional speeches. “You don’t have to date me to feel relaxed around me. We can be friends and you feel safe around me.”

Zephon turned slowly to face the alpha, a curious frown marring his features. “…You’d be happy with a friend who’s an omega? You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t be embarrassed to talk to an omega who you aren’t knotting?”

Dean’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “Omegas are more than objects of pleasure. You’re no less important to this world than any alpha or beta and you shouldn’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Zephon averted his gaze. “You really are perfect,” he mumbled.

Castiel edged forwards. “Your mate won’t find you here,” he offered quietly before grabbing a pen from Zephon’s desk. “And if she does…” He grabbed the other omega’s hand and wrote a line of numbers across his palm. Zephon stared at the digits in surprise.

“Call us,” Castiel said softly. “We’ll drop everything.”

Zephon curled his fingers over his palm and cast a grateful gaze to Castiel. “Thank you,” he whispered, a watery sheen building in his eyes.

Castiel smiled weakly and carded his fingers through a gold and violet wing, and Zephon slumped into his touch, seemingly starved of affection.

Dean squeezed the omega’s shoulder, wondering just how young the angel was. It had never crossed his mind before, but now that he looked, he realised that Zephon could have only been in his mid-twenties.

“You… you’ll still come to my classes, right?” Zephon asked tentatively. “This hasn’t ruined everything, has it? I’ve not… upset you?”

Dean shook his head with a reassuring smile as Castiel said, “We’ll still come to your classes, Zephon.”

Zephon sighed in relief and curled his fingers into their sleeves, holding on as though he didn’t want them to leave. Dean watched him sadly and raked his fingers through the angel’s wing, copying Castiel’s movements on the opposite wing. Eventually, Zephon’s halo changed from silver and blue to a contented yellow.

A couple of minutes later, Samandriel and Jack crept out of the bathroom, no doubt having heard every word that had been exchanged between the three adults.

Castiel and Dean pulled away from the younger angel and made their way over to the children. Zephon waved at them embarrassedly before casting his gaze to the numbers on his palm and smiling in relief.

Dean and Castiel ushered the children downstairs.

 

*             *             *

 

Things were looking up for Castiel. Whilst his new job wasn’t quite as action-packed as being part of The Host, he had enjoyed these past few weeks, particularly the time he got to spend with Dean at the station. The alpha kept finding ways to surprise him – between taking him out for lunch dates, sending him saucy texts, and playing pranks on him and his colleagues… Castiel couldn’t have been happier.

Dean was fun and interesting and romantic, and then they came home and the alpha turned into the most amazing father to Samandriel. He helped Samandriel with schoolwork and continued developing his English, then he cooked and cleaned and took care of Castiel in the late evenings.

Castiel had no idea how the alpha was keeping it up. Castiel helped where he could – cleaning and cooking and taking care of the animals in the afternoons, before pouring as much love and attention into Dean as he could manage in the evenings.

Castiel was truly happy. He realised that he had never felt this way before.

Sam and his tribe visited occasionally, and Castiel was beginning to get used to their individual personalities. Gabriel was mischievous and fun and loved to entertain children, but he was completely in love with Sam and it certainly showed whenever they came over. Lucifer was sly and loved irritating as many people as possible, but he had never learned social angel behaviours and could get himself into a lot of trouble from posturing in ways that he didn’t mean. Raphael was quiet but extremely clever. He just wanted to make people happy and his friendly nature made him very easy to get along with. Michael was protective of his flock and he was the one everyone returned to when they had a problem. He was the one who kept everyone safe. Sam was the one who grounded the flock. He took care of everyone and made sure they were happy and he smoothed over arguments. He was also entirely head over heels for Gabriel.

Explaining the return of Castiel’s voice had been… an experience, but a white lie would hardly cause any problems.

It wasn’t just Sam who had acquired a flock. Castiel had created his own little flock with Dean, Samandriel, Jack and Belphegor. The two young demons visited frequently (Jack nearly every day), and Castiel considered them as much a part of his family as Sam and his herd.

Honestly, Castiel quite enjoyed having the demons around. It was nice for Samandriel to have playmates his own age and the older angel couldn’t remember why he had been so wary of the two demons to begin with. How could he be terrified by two children who, when they slept over, began in their own sleeping bags only to migrate through the night onto Samandriel’s bed; their bodies curled protectively around Samandriel as he wrapped his wings and arms around them both?

The first time he had seen that, his heart had melted.

He quickly changed his mind about how adorable they were when the trio switched out his wing shampoo for treacle.

Eight weeks passed since the return of his voice, without incident. Castiel trusted Dean more and more with each day and his smile grew a little brighter every time the two demons came to visit.

And then Jack turned up with a black eye, a bruised jaw and a sprained wing.

“I fell,” the demon muttered, refusing to meet Castiel’s gaze. “Down the stairs at home.”

Belphegor and Samandriel scowled, their eyes black and electric blue, respectively.

“You’re a terrible liar, Jack,” Belphegor growled. Jack flinched.

Castiel glanced at the boy’s broken antler as Dean scowled at Jack’s bruised arm.

Castiel crouched down. “What happened?” he asked softly.

Water filled Jack’s eyes and he squeezed them shut as he rubbed at his sore arm. “I fell,” he insisted.

“Did they push you?” Belphegor demanded angrily. “Those two angels?”

Jack grimaced; gaze glued to the floor. “It was an accident,” he whispered.

Castiel’s eyes flashed blue in fury and Dean growled. Even Samandriel and Belphegor looked livid.

Jack startled and looked up at Castiel. “It really was an accident,” he said. “They didn’t mean to push me down the stairs. They’re just worried about Bessie. She’s really old and really sick now. I… I scared them.”

Castiel exhaled slowly, attempting to calm himself. He sat on the floor and inspected the demon’s wing. “What happened?”

Jack hesitated before slowly crawling to Castiel’s side and settling down. Castiel curled his wing around him as Dean sat beside them.

“Bessie needed to go to the bathroom and I just happened to be the first one there. I helped her out of her room because she can’t walk too steady anymore. The bathroom is at the top of the stairs though and she wobbled a bit when she looked down and I struggled to keep her standing. She nearly fell, but the beta angel spotted us and managed to catch her. The alpha angel got really mad at me. He thought I was trying to make her fall. I shouted at him because I would never hurt Bessie, but I shouted so loud that Bessie jumped and fell in the bathroom.

“The alpha got angry and he smacked me with his wing, but the landing is really tiny and I slipped on the carpet and tumbled down the stairs.”

Jack snuggled into Castiel embarrassedly. “He didn’t mean to. I could see the shock on his and the beta’s faces. They didn’t mean to hurt me.”

“Did they help you?” Castiel asked, rubbing his thumb over the sheared end of an antler.

“Well… no. But they went to help Bessie, so it’s okay,” Jack murmured.

“They left you at the bottom of the stairs?” Dean asked incredulously.

Jack shrugged. “Bessie’s more important. She’s old.”

“And you could have cracked your skull open,” growled Dean. “They should have helped you too.”

“Does this happen a lot?” Castiel frowned. “Do they hit you a lot?”

Jack shook his head. “Not really. They smack me with their wings sometimes and they push me if they think I’m too close to Bessie, but they never set out to hurt me.” He paused. “At least, I’m pretty sure they don’t.”

Castiel scowled. No one hurt his flock and got away with it.

“I think we need to have a word with these angels,” Dean growled, clearly on the same line of thinking as Castiel.

Jack blinked in surprise. “Wait, what?”

“Dean and Cas are gonna kick their asses,” supplied Belphegor.

Jack straightened and glanced between Dean and Castiel, panicked. “You can’t! What if… what if they fight back? What if they hurt you guys too?”

Castiel massaged an aching wing and watched Jack lean into him. “They’re bullies,” he offered lowly. “Bullies are cowards. They’re picking on you because you’re younger and they know that you can’t fight back.”

“Let’s see them pick on someone their own size,” rumbled Dean.

Castiel stroked Jack’s hair. “We’re just going to talk to them. Get them to stop hurting you.” Or failing that, see if Bessie would be willing to give up custody of Jack. It wasn’t as though he and Dean hadn’t discussed the idea before. They had known of Jack’s unhappiness at home for quite some time now. He practically lived with them anyway.

“…They can be mean,” Jack said quietly. “And I don’t think they’re cowards. I’m pretty sure they were some sort of agents when they were in The Silver City. A bit like you.”

Castiel’s gaze softened and he wrapped Jack more securely in his wings. “Well then, it’s a good thing I was one of the best agents in the business, isn’t it?” he winked.

Jack managed a weak smile and nuzzled into Castiel’s shoulder. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“He won’t,” murmured Dean. “I’m gonna be there too, remember?”

“Yeah, and me and Samandriel will kick ‘em in the nuts if they try anything,” piped up Belphegor. “Right, S?”

Samandriel nodded in determination. “Right.”

Jack quirked a smile as Castiel shot Belphegor an unimpressed look.

“Stay for dinner,” Castiel offered. “And when we take you home tonight, we’ll have a word with them. Sound good?”

Jack nodded and Castiel stood, grabbing the demon’s hand and leading him to the bathroom. “Let’s see if we’ve got something to take that swelling down.”

              

*             *             *

 

Castiel steeled himself as he banged against the bright red door. He gripped Jack’s hand tightly in his own, Dean by his side and Samandriel and Belphegor pressed up against the rear window of the car.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to expect from two angels who thought it appropriate to push a fledgling down a flight of stairs, but he reasoned that they couldn’t be the most pleasant of people. He lifted his jaw and hovered a wing around Jack protectively, gritting his teeth when the door latch clicked.

Beside him, Dean braced, eyes narrowed and scent flooding with alpha pheromones. It wasn’t often that Dean resorted to alpha intimidation tactics, but apparently, threatening a fledgling made him play dirty.

The door swung open and a beta poked his head around it, scowling down at Jack. Then, he seemed to realise that the young demon wasn’t alone and he lifted his gaze to Dean in surprise. He straightened at Dean’s scowl and opened his mouth to ask a question, but flicked his gaze to Castiel instead and froze, shocked into silence.

Castiel stared at the beta with wide, stunned eyes.

“…Balthazar?”

The beta’s jaw worked open and closed for a few seconds before he licked his lips, eyes still glued on Castiel, and yelled over his shoulder, _“Gadreel!”_

A familiar alpha shuffled to the door in confusion. He frowned at Jack briefly before realising who his mate was actually focused on, and his jaw dropped when his gaze landed on the equally stunned omega.

"…Castiel?”

They stared at one another for a few moments before a grin split Castiel’s face and he lunged at the friends he hadn’t seen in far too many years. They laughed breathlessly and held onto him, scenting and wrapping their wings around him possessively as he hid his relieved tears in their shoulders.

 ** _“Cassie,”_** Balthazar choked out nuzzling into his neck and carding his fingers through raven feathers. **_“It’s been so long.”_**

 ** _“I thought… I thought you were both…”_** Castiel shook his head and buried his face into Gadreel’s neck, scenting deeply and clutching his friends’ wings a little too tight.

 ** _“We’re here,”_** rumbled Gadreel, nuzzling the omega’s hair a tad frantically. **_“We’re right here, Castiel.”_**

 ** _“We’ve missed you so much,”_** breathed Balthazar as he squeezed the omega. **_“We weren’t sure if you made it. When The Host showed up…”_**

Castiel shook his head desperately and curled his wings around his friends. **_“You sacrificed yourselves for me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for getting me off that planet.”_**

**_“Uncle Gadreel! Uncle Balthazar!”_ **

Alpha and beta snapped their gazes to the little fledgling sprinting towards them.

 ** _“Samandriel!”_** they cried in unison as Gadreel crouched down and opened his arms for the little angel. Samandriel threw himself at the alpha and snuggled into him.

 ** _“You’re alive!”_** he exclaimed excitedly. **_“I thought I’d never see you again!”_**

Gadreel scented at the fledgling, nuzzling into his neck and hair for a few moments. **_“And we thought we’d lost you.”_** He grinned at Samandriel suddenly. **_“You’ve grown, little one.”_**

Samandriel laughed. **_“That’s ‘cos I’m eleven now.”_**

Gadreel cocked an eyebrow. **_“Eleven? Has it really been that long? I’m surprised you even remember us.”_**

Samandriel smiled and tugged the alpha in for another hug. **_“How could I ever forget my favourite uncles?”_**

Castiel leaned into Balthazar’s grooming as he watched his son interact with his friend and a warm feeling blossomed in his heart.

Behind him, there was a quiet whimper.

Castiel flicked his gaze to Jack and found the young demon holding onto Dean, a nervous and betrayed expression on his face as he watched Castiel and Samandriel hug his bullies. Dean stroked the demon’s wings reassuringly, but even he was looking torn. Belphegor looked outright disgusted as he lingered by the car door.

Castiel pushed away from Balthazar with a scowl. **_“Wait. I’m supposed to be angry with you.”_**

Samandriel glanced at his father in confusion before he caught a glimpse of the cowering Jack, and he tore himself away from Gadreel and quickly stood beside the young demon. Gadreel and Balthazar blinked at Castiel in surprise as the omega took another step backwards and waggled an accusing finger at them.

**_“How could you push a fledgling down the stairs?”_ **

Gadreel straightened, eyes blowing wide. **_“It was an accident, I assure you.”_**

 ** _“You left him at the bottom of the stairs,”_** growled Dean.

Gadreel and Balthazar glanced at Dean warily, unsure what to make of the strange alpha.

 ** _“To help an old lady,”_** Balthazar frowned. **_“Who is now in hospital, thanks to that little abomination.”_** He gestured carelessly to Jack.

“Bessie’s in hospital?” Jack whined.

Gadreel scowled at the demon, wings fanning wide in warning. **_“You can congratulate yourself later.”_**

Dean bared his teeth as he gripped Jack’s hand tighter and Castiel startled at the sudden hostility permeating his scent.

**_“Threaten him again and I’ll knock your teeth out.”_ **

Gadreel growled softly at the other alpha as Castiel choked out a startled, “Dean!”

 ** _“You know this alpha?”_** Gadreel murmured lowly, unimpressed as he eyed Dean. Beside him, Balthazar scowled at the human.

 ** _“What he means to say,”_** Castiel interrupted before Dean could bite out any other worrisome responses, **_“is that Jack would never intentionally hurt Bessie.”_**

Balthazar stared at Castiel oddly. **_“He’s a demon.”_**

 ** _“Oh, wow. Good job, buddy. You figure that one out all on your own?”_** Dean sniped.

Balthazar sent Dean a withering glare as Gadreel flared his wings at the other alpha. Balthazar ignored the human in favour of focusing on Castiel. **_“Why are you defending a demon?”_**

Castiel frowned and wandered over to Jack, placing a hand on his back. **_“He’s just a fledgling, Balthazar. He played no part in the war. He has been nothing but friendly to Samandriel. Why treat him as an enemy?”_**

 ** _“He’s a monster,”_** growled Gadreel, narrowing his eyes at Jack until the demon sunk down and hid behind Dean. **_“You know what his kind did to us. You saw how many people they slaughtered without mercy.”_**

Balthazar nodded in agreement and gestured disgustedly towards Jack. **_“It was his kind that got Gadreel ki-”_** He snapped his mouth shut, glancing at Dean warily before shooting Castiel a pointed frown.

Castiel shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like thinking of the days when Balthazar had been broken and hopeless. He didn’t like remembering the sight of Gadreel’s cold, lifeless corpse in the morgue. Plus, he still hadn’t told Dean of his ability yet; he would hate for the alpha to find out from a stranger in the heat of an argument.

 ** _“Jack is kind and caring,”_** Castiel murmured, petting the boy’s wing reassuringly. **_“He would never hurt anyone. I promise you that he doesn’t deserve to be treated with contempt.”_**

 ** _“He’s my best friend,”_** Samandriel said firmly before twisting his head to smile at the other demon lingering by the Impala. **_“Along with Belphegor.”_**

The other demon perked up a little and sauntered over, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stood just behind Jack and Samandriel.

Balthazar and Gadreel looked even more disturbed by the appearance of a second demon. Gadreel growled softly in warning and startled when Dean growled back, loud and pointed.

 ** _“How can you defend him?”_** Balthazar asked incredulously. **_“How can you feel sympathy for a_ demon _? They destroyed our lives! They took everything from us!”_**

 ** _“No,”_** huffed Castiel. **_“No, The Host did that. Demons followed their orders just as we followed ours and look where it got us. How many of us have had to flee to Earth for safety? Not just angels; demons too. Jack’s mother came to Earth to give her unborn baby a better start in life than she had.”_** He glanced down sadly when a quiet whimper left Jack’s throat. **_“And eleven years later, he’s already had to identify her body in a morgue and has been forced into a house with two adult angels who bully and yell at him because they can’t see past their own twisted prejudices. He has done nothing to harm either of you, has been nothing short of friendly to everyone he meets, yet you two pushed him down the stairs and left him there. He could have had broken bones, he could have haemorrhaged, he could have been paralysed! And you just… left him.”_**

Gadreel and Balthazar at least had the decency to duck their heads a little, but then Gadreel frowned.

**_“Why do you care so much about one little demon?”_ **

Castiel’s mouth drew downwards. He clearly wasn’t getting through to them.

 ** _“Jack is my flock,”_** he said firmly.

Balthazar and Gadreel snapped their mouths shut, eyes widening as they slowly shifted their gazes to the stunned Jack.

 ** _“Anyone who threatens him gets to deal with me,”_** Castiel growled, merely to emphasise his point.

Jack stared up at Castiel in awe, wings fluttering a little when the angel glanced at him. The demon beamed and crept over to Castiel, reaching for his hand and holding it tight before leaning into his side and scenting at him happily. Castiel ruffled the boy’s hair and rubbed his wrist over his wing in a brief but pointed scent-mark.

Balthazar and Gadreel’s wings drooped a little as they watched their friend claim the young demon as his.

 ** _“If you want to continue behaving like assholes, we’re quite happy to adopt him,”_** Dean said lowly, eying the other angels challengingly.

Jack brightened and glanced between Castiel and Dean excitedly. Castiel smiled down at the demon and tucked him into his wing. Balthazar and Gadreel shot Dean a filthy glare, but one look at Castiel’s disappointed expression had them lowering their gazes in shame, halos blazing crimson.

 ** _“You always wanted a fledgling,”_** Castiel murmured softly. **_“Now you have one and you’re abusing him.”_**

Gadreel stiffened. **_“We’re not_ abusing _him…”_**

 ** _“You treat him how Hannah treated Samandriel,”_** Castiel said. **_“Worse. At least Hannah never physically hit Samandriel.”_**

Gadreel winced and caught Balthazar’s gaze. The beta tucked his wings close to his back and whispered, **_“If we had known he was part of your flock…”_**

 ** _“That’s not the point,”_** Castiel scowled. **_“You shouldn’t be treating any demon so cruelly. Many of them played no part in the war and even those that did… they were just following orders, the same as we did. We came to Earth seeking refuge – we shouldn’t be bringing war with us. We certainly shouldn’t be blaming fledglings for the past.”_**

 ** _“…They destroyed so much of our world, our livelihoods,”_** mumbled Balthazar. **_“We can’t just… forget about that.”_**

 ** _“And we destroyed much of their world too,”_** sighed Castiel. **_“Their homes and families… We need to learn to live together before we lose everything that we’ve salvaged in coming here. Jack’s mother taught him that lesson many years ago; it’s time the rest of us caught up.”_**

Gadreel and Balthazar glanced at the young demon, shoulders slumping a little further when Samandriel wrapped his arms around Jack and scented at his neck. Jack easily relaxed into the embrace and curled a wing around the angel.

 ** _“Basically, don’t be a dick to him and we won’t have to come kick your asses,”_** said Belphegor as he flared his wings territorially around his friends.

Gadreel raised an eyebrow and Belphegor matched the expression. **_“Charming,”_** muttered the alpha.

 ** _“Well, he ain’t wrong,”_** drawled Dean, crossing his arms, and Castiel rolled his eyes at the challenging and threatening alpha pheromones radiating from Dean and Gadreel. So much for Dean being an unusually easy-going alpha – apparently hurting his loved ones made him just as much of an ass as the rest of the alpha population.

Then again… maybe that wasn’t such a bad trait, Castiel thought fondly.

“I’ll be good,” Jack whispered, the sudden switch to English making everyone blink. “I’ll keep out of your way and I won’t speak unless spoken to and I’ll get Bessie anything she needs. I’ll… I’ll clean and learn to cook and I’ll wash everyone’s clothes and put them all away again and I’ll… I’ll do anything you ask me to do. Just…” He swallowed nervously as he looked up at Gadreel and Balthazar. “Just please stop hitting me with your wings. It hurts sometimes and I don’t like it when I get headaches at school or before bed. I’m really sorry for shouting at you today. I won’t ever do it again, I promise. Just… please… don’t hit me again.”

Dean looked ready to tear Balthazar and Gadreel’s wings off and honestly, after that speech, Castiel had a mind to smack them both upside the head too and ask them how they liked it. Samandriel was physically holding on to Belphegor, most likely to stop him from making good on his earlier suggestion of kicking both angels in the unmentionables.

Balthazar and Gadreel’s halos brightened to a cherry red and they averted their gazes in humiliation.

Finally, Balthazar flicked his gaze to Jack. **_“We’re sorry. We’ll never hit you again. Promise.”_**

Jack quirked his lips into a weak smile and Gadreel turned his attention to the young demon as well.

**_“I truly am sorry for pushing you down the stairs. Please believe that I would never have done that on purpose and it was appalling of me to leave you there. I should have… I should have checked on you.”_ **

A hopeful grin slowly crawled over Jack’s face as Balthazar edged towards him.

**_“We are wrong for treating you as we have. Cassie’s right – you’re just a fledgling and you shouldn’t have to be afraid of the people you live with. You’ve already been through so much and we’ve made everything ten times harder for you. We should have been helping you not bullying you.”_ **

**_“You don’t have to stay out of our way,”_** mumbled Gadreel. **_“This is your home as much as it is ours. You don’t have to be our slave to keep on our good side. We should have been kinder to you.”_** A pained expression flitted across the alpha’s face. **_“Do you really go to school with headaches after we…?”_**

Jack shrugged awkwardly. “It’s okay. They go after a couple of hours most of the time.”

Gadreel closed his eyes, looking even guiltier.

“I know you’re busy looking after Bessie,” Jack admitted quietly. “I get that having me around is probably really annoying. I know she’s sick and I know you guys don’t trust me around her, but I promise I would never do anything to hurt her. I really like her.”

Balthazar licked his lips and swallowed. **_“Jack, we truly are sorry. We shouldn’t have prevented you from being with her.”_**

“You’ve known her for four years. It’s longer than I have. She’s your flock,” Jack hummed. “I understand why you didn’t trust me. Cas didn’t trust me when he first met me either and he attacked me. Samandriel punched me in the face the first time I spoke to him.” Jack frowned at himself. “Actually… maybe I’ve just got one of those faces everyone wants to punch. Or maybe it’s my scent. Do I smell punch-able?”

 ** _“No. Surprisingly, I actually like your scent,”_** mumbled Balthazar. **_“Unfortunately, I’ve never been able to get past the horns.”_**

Castiel could see in his friends’ faces that they were feeling more and more stupid by the second. They sounded embarrassed by their own words and were quickly losing the courage to even look Jack in the eye.

  ** _“Antlers,”_** corrected Samandriel. **_“Jack has really cool antlers.”_**

 ** _“That look super awesome covered in glitter glue,”_** smirked Belphegor.

“You both suck and I’m going to paint your wings with pink and purple hearts whilst you sleep,” groaned Jack as his friends snickered at him over some in-joke that had Castiel and Dean glancing at each other curiously.

 ** _“I feel like such a dick,”_** Balthazar whispered to his mate. **_“He really is just a fledgling.”_**

 ** _“Oh, you definitely are dicks,”_** said Dean enthusiastically. **_“Don’t worry – we all agree with you.”_**

 ** _“Who even are you?”_** Gadreel snapped.

Dean opened his mouth, a witty response on the tip of his tongue, only to be smoothly interrupted by Castiel.

**_“This is Dean. My boyfriend.”_ **

Gadreel and Balthazar’s eyes grew as round as saucers and Dean choked a little on his own tongue. They had teasingly called one another ‘boyfriend’ in the privacy of their own home, but it struck Dean that they had never outright used that word in front of friends or strangers.

Castiel smiled a little at Dean’s sudden silence.

 ** _“…This_** **alpha _is your boyfriend?”_** Balthazar asked incredulously, eying Dean in something akin to distaste. **_“This vulgar, hot-headed alpha with a possessive streak a mile-wide and the manners of an entitled toddler is your_ boyfriend _? The sex must be something else, Cassie. Either that or he’s paying you.”_**

Dean stiffened and Castiel cut in before the human could prove Balthazar’s point.

**_“He’s a good man with a large heart.”_ **

**_“And a big knot?”_** leered Balthazar.

Dean growled and jabbed a finger in the beta’s direction. “Okay, buddy, you don’t know the first thing about-”

 ** _“Well, yes, but that’s just an added perk,”_** said Castiel drily, shutting the alpha up.

 ** _“Never thought you’d go for a pretty face over brains, Castiel,”_** mumbled Gadreel.

Castiel smiled sarcastically. **_“Never thought you’d push a fledgling down the stairs and leave him there, Gadreel, but here we are.”_**

Gadreel gaped at Castiel before straightening, wings swinging behind his back nervously. Even Balthazar and Dean looked stunned.

 ** _“Can we please stop insulting Dean now?”_** Castiel asked harshly. **_“He is the most caring man I’ve ever met and he has done more for me and Samandriel than I will ever be able to thank him for. He has offered me freedom and safety and he treats Samandriel as his own, despite our initial distrust of him. He takes care of us before taking care of himself and I am undoubtedly enamoured with him, so if you would kindly stop looking down upon him, that would be great, thank you.”_**

Gadreel and Balthazar shared a shocked glance and Castiel pretended not to notice the sappy gaze Dean was giving him.

 ** _“…You’ve changed,”_** Gadreel whispered after a minute of stunned silence.

 ** _“I had to,”_** shrugged Castiel. **_“A lot of things have happened since you… since you made me board that ship.”_**

Gadreel’s gaze softened at the unspoken gratitude and Balthazar jerked a thumb inside the house.

 ** _“Come in,”_** he offered quietly. **_“I’ll make us all a drink.”_**

 As Castiel closed his eyes tiredly, something squeezed his hand, and he looked down to find Jack smiling up at him warmly. He returned the smile and herded his flock inside.

 

*             *             *

 

It turned out that actually… Balthazar and Gadreel weren’t all that bad.

Sure, Gadreel was a little stiff and tense, and Balthazar was way too handsy and had no brain-to-mouth filter, but Dean wasn’t an idiot – he could see how much they cared for Cas and Samandriel and he knew how many times they had defended both omegas on Heaven.

Dean was happy to sit back and let his boyfriend catch up with his long-lost friends. Jack, Belphegor and Samandriel chatted animatedly to one another on the floor, occasionally interjecting the adults’ conversation with their own anecdotes.

Dean couldn’t help but side-eye Balthazar. The angel had peculiar wings and an even more peculiar scent. Dean only knew that the man was a beta because Castiel had told him in one of his many stories, but it was easy to see why people got confused. Balthazar’s scent was appealing, but it wasn’t discernibly alpha, beta or omega.

He smelled amazing though. And his wings were absolutely gorgeous. They were so colourful and shiny and they glittered like sequins under the dim lights, casting violets and scarlets and bronzes and emeralds over the couch and walls.

Dean inhaled deeply, closing his eyes at that wonderful, indescribable scent that simultaneously made him want to burrow under the covers with the beta and protect him from the world, and throw him over the back of the couch and knot him until Balthazar couldn’t remember his own name. He sighed in pleasure and leaned forwards in his seat, attempting to get closer to the delicious scent. Balthazar would look so good on the end of his knot… All spread out for him and panting with every thrust of Dean’s powerful hips. Begging him to go harder, faster, deeper… Touching himself as Dean claimed and marked his body.

_Wait, what?_

His eyes snapped open, panicked.

He glanced around the angels to find them all biting back laughter. Even Gadreel looked highly amused.

“What were you daydreaming about, Dean?” Balthazar asked innocently in a… vaguely French accent. Weird. “Something exciting?” He glanced down at Dean’s crotch.

Dean flicked his gaze between his legs and his cheeks burned red as he covered his obscene erection.

“Apparently, he’s got some interesting plans lined up for Castiel tonight,” hummed Gadreel in much the same accent as he had when speaking Enochian.

Castiel arched an eyebrow as Dean began to sweat. “Is that right, Dean? Were you thinking about me just now?”

Dean’s jaw worked open and closed, heart racing as guilt seeped into his stomach. “I… uh…”

“Unless he was thinking of someone else,” frowned Balthazar. “I’ve seen that look many times, Cassie. That’s the face of a guilty man with someone on the side.”

Castiel frowned. “Be quiet, Balthazar. Dean’s thoughts would never stray. He’s loyal. He would never consider cheating on me.”

Dean’s eyes widened and he shook his head, growing even hotter with shame. “I wouldn’t cheat! I would never cheat on you, Cas,” he blurted desperately. “On anybody!”

“Tell us what you were just thinking, Dean,” Gadreel said sternly. “You want to confess what you were just thinking, don’t you? You need to tell us in order to stop this awful guilt in your heart.”

Dean couldn’t breathe with all the guilt and shame filling his chest. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was listening to you guys, then the next, I was thinking how nice Balthazar’s scent is and how pretty his wings are and suddenly, all I could picture was me throwing him over the back of the couch, ripping his clothes off and ramming my kn-”

“Fledglings!” Castiel yelped, seeming unbothered by Dean’s disturbing thoughts.

Dean snapped his mouth shut and startled when Balthazar burst out laughing. Suddenly, the guilt and shame melted away, to be replaced by confusion.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

Castiel smiled gently and curled his wing around Dean, tugging him into his side and kissing his jaw tenderly. “Balthazar has a twisted sense of humour.”

Dean quickly remembered. “Lust! You can make people lust after you!” He pointed an accusing finger at Balthazar before raising his eyebrows. “Wow, that was… impressive, actually. I couldn’t even tell something was wrong.”

Balthazar winked and bowed his head playfully, and Dean turned to Gadreel. “And you have the power of suggestion, right? You told me to do something, so I did it.”

Gadreel nodded gracefully. “Consider it a warning for what could happen if you ever break Castiel’s heart.”

“Gadreel!” Castiel scolded as a slow grin appeared on Dean’s face. Protective friends weren’t a bad thing in Dean’s opinion. It just showed that they cared. Besides, Dean knew of Castiel’s history with relationships and alphas of any kind – he couldn’t say that he blamed Balthazar and Gadreel for their wariness.

“Noted,” he murmured, nuzzling into Castiel’s cheek, mostly to reassure himself. Castiel hummed softly in contentment.

“Oh, wow, that’s bright,” mumbled Balthazar.

Dean and Castiel raised questioning eyebrows and the beta pointed to his own halo before gesturing to Castiel’s. “I’ve never seen it that golden. Not even with Hannah. You really like this human, don’t you?”

Castiel nodded and tilted his head to allow Dean to scent at his neck. Dean didn’t really know why he was feeling so affectionate. Maybe today had been too emotional for him.

“How did you escape The Host?” Castiel asked quietly and Dean could tell in his tone that the question had been on the omega’s mind for a while.

Gadreel and Balthazar fell silent and glanced at one another.

Dean still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened to force Castiel and his friends to run from The Host as they had – the angel had been a little fuzzy about all the details. He knew that Gadreel had been injured in some way and Castiel had helped him, which had made his colleagues angry because he had done something he probably shouldn’t have. Dean wasn’t certain what could make them force the trio out of their homes, but he knew that he didn’t like Castiel’s co-workers and he definitely didn’t like Hannah – the person who had set it all off in the first place.

“Did they torture you?” Castiel asked after a few moments.

“…Yes,” Balthazar replied slowly, glancing at Dean.

Castiel flinched. “How long?”

“Just over a year,” responded Gadreel softly. “Not continuously, although they did keep us in prison cells.”

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking out over his lashes.

“We were together,” said Balthazar in an effort to soothe. “We were in opposite cells so we were never alone.”

Castiel huddled in on himself. “They wouldn’t let you touch one another. They kept you apart.”

Balthazar swallowed, a haunted look flickering over his face briefly before he shook his head and stood. He watched Dean warily for a moment before edging towards Castiel when he realised that Dean wasn’t about to stop him.

 ** _“Come here, love.”_** He took Castiel’s free side and held the omega tightly when Castiel nestled into him. **_“We got out eventually. Seduced a couple of rookie guards and Gadreel convinced them to unlock our cells. Came straight to Earth.”_**

 ** _“Who tortured you?”_** Castiel demanded angrily.

Balthazar hesitated, but Gadreel merely lifted his chin. **_“Naomi. Azrael from special ops. Hannah.”_**

Castiel bristled and snapped his gaze to Gadreel. **_“Hannah? What did she do?”_**

 ** _“Broke a few bones. Set a few feathers on fire. Nothing too creative,”_** dismissed Balthazar, but it was obvious by his lowered wings that there were memories that he wasn’t ready to talk about. **_“She had fun though and that’s what’s important,”_** Balthazar winked as Gadreel clenched his fists.

“What sort of information were they even trying to get out of you?” Dean asked incredulously, because _torture_? That sounded way above his pay grade.

Balthazar’s eyes widened a fraction as Gadreel tensed. They glanced at Castiel worriedly.

“My powers,” Castiel said uncomfortably, not quite meeting his alpha’s gaze.

Dean rubbed a wing base reassuringly even though his heart had just dropped in disappointment. “Hey, it’s okay if you ain’t ready yet. You don’t have to tell me until you trust me.”

Gadreel and Balthazar blinked in surprise.

“I do trust you, Dean. I just…” He looked away in shame. “Last time I told someone, it… it got my friends tortured.”

Dean continued massaging a wing. “I get it. As long as you know it won’t change the way I feel about you. I’m not Hannah.”

Castiel swallowed and sat upright, turning to face Dean properly. He briefly glanced at the children gazing up at him from the floor, conversations forgotten, before lacing his fingers with the alpha’s. He chewed on his cheek for a few moments before staring Dean in the eye.

“I can resurrect the dead.”

Silence blanketed the room, only broken by the continuous ticking of an old clock.

“That is so cool!” Belphegor grinned.

“…Ah,” said Dean, mind racing. There were a billion ways that information could be used against Cas if the wrong people found out. He suddenly understood why the angel had been so skittish around the subject.

Already, he could smell Gadreel and Balthazar gearing up to defend Castiel as the omega shrank lower into his seat. He could smell Castiel’s spike in fear and from the corner of his eye, he could see Samandriel practically shaking with terror and anticipation at Dean’s reaction.

“So… your colleagues found out that you could raise the dead – which was mildly convenient considering you were fighting a war – and suddenly you’ve got a wanted ad with your name on it. I think I see the problem,” drawled Dean. “No wonder you left.”

Castiel visibly slumped in relief as Gadreel and Balthazar calmed their scents. Samandriel sighed.

“They found out because I raised Gadreel after a disastrous mission,” explained Castiel and Dean glanced at the other alpha in surprise. “The plan was for Balthazar and Gadreel to flee and for me to follow later. Unfortunately, Hannah worked it out.”

“Y’know,” hummed Dean. “The more you tell me about this Hannah chick, the more I want to punch her. So, what happened? You escaped but Balthazar and Gadreel didn’t?”

Castiel leaned into Balthazar a little. “We all moved to a new place on the other side of the planet. We were fine for quite some time – built up a new life together as a flock. Then one day as I was coming home from work, Host agents just… swarmed the village. We were driven into the forest and ended up flying towards some port that may or may not have existed. We were so close…”

“I got shot,” sighed Balthazar, carding his fingers through Castiel’s feathers absently. “Cassie tried to help me to the ship but the agents were already on us. Gadreel convinced him to leave with Samandriel.”

“Forced me,” growled Castiel softly. “He used his powers on me and by the time they wore off, the ship had already left and all I could do was watch you both be captured.” He whirled to face Gadreel angrily. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

Gadreel blinked calmly. “You and Samandriel were the priority. If The Host had captured you, you would have faced a lot worse than what we went through. You would never have seen sunlight again, Castiel.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make!” Castiel snapped, halo swirling with a variety of colours, never settling on any particular one. “I should have stayed with you. I lost my best friends because I turned my back on them when they needed me most – do you have any idea how that has made me feel for all these years? Do have any idea how much I’ve worried over you? I thought you were… I thought they’d…” He shook his head in distress and Balthazar carefully snaked his arms around Castiel from behind.

Balthazar glanced at Dean warily but the alpha merely smiled and remained quiet. Castiel needed his friends and Dean wasn’t about to interrupt.

“I’m sorry,” murmured Balthazar, nuzzling into Castiel’s neck and scenting at him. “We both are. We just wanted you to be safe.”

Castiel clutched at his friend’s arms, wings beginning to tremble. “I needed you. We both needed you. Samandriel cried for weeks and I couldn’t even reassure him.”

Gadreel cast his gaze to Samandriel and smiled sadly, opening his arms in invitation.

“I’m still mad at you,” mumbled Samandriel as he stood and shuffled towards the alpha. “I can’t believe you hurt Jack.”

Gadreel grimaced as Samandriel hopped into his lap and begrudgingly snuggled into him. “Yes, well… that was rather appalling of me.”

“Promise you’ll be super nice to him from now on,” demanded Samandriel. “Like how you’re always nice to me.”

Gadreel hesitated, glancing at the young demon’s antlers and intimidating wings.

“He doesn’t have a mom or dad anymore so you _have_ to be nice to him,” explained Samandriel. “He needs someone to protect him when Dad, Dean, Belphy and I aren’t around. You’ve got to look after him like you look after Dad and me.”

When Gadreel paused for too long, Samandriel scowled and fanned his wings. “Promise.”

Gadreel sighed and placed a hand over his heart. “Promise.”

Samandriel grinned and swivelled to face Jack, but a frown graced his features when he noticed the demon’s frozen staring at Castiel.

“…Jack?”

A hushed quiet fell around the room as all eyes turned to Jack.

“You… you can raise the dead?” Jack breathed, staring at Castiel in shock.

Immediately Gadreel and Balthazar’s wings began to puff up, clearly ready to threaten the young demon into keeping silent.

“Yes,” said Castiel softly, already suspecting what Jack was thinking. “I’ve kept it a secret for many years now.”

“…Like me?” Jack whispered.

Castiel nodded, a small curve to his lips. “I have to keep my power a secret, just like you.”

A smile slowly blossomed over Jack’s face before his wings began to flutter. Balthazar and Gadreel frowned at one another in confusion.

“Wait, what?” Balthazar asked.

Castiel shook his head but Jack eyed the beta suspiciously. “You won’t tell anyone if I tell you? You’ll keep it a secret like you did with Samandriel’s dad’s?”

Balthazar blinked. “Um… sure?”

Jack eyed him for another few seconds before slowly raising a hand to his own bruised face. When he dropped his palm a moment later, the skin was unblemished.

Balthazar straightened as Gadreel’s mouth dropped open.

“He healed me and Dad too!” Samandriel crowed excitedly as he hopped off Gadreel’s lap and raced towards his friend. “And Belphegor! Dad lost his voice after an alpha strangled him and Jack fixed him! Oh, and he healed all our scars and bruises after all those horrible alphas and betas hurt us for like… five years! _And_ he fixed Dad and Belphy’s scars from when Baraqiel knotted them. He is so awesome!”

Jack grinned as Samandriel crushed him into a hug, but Castiel had gone pale as Balthazar and Gadreel stared at the young angel in horror.

 ** _“What?”_** Balthazar choked out, switching back to Enochian.

Castiel licked his lips and squeezed his friend’s hand. **_“It… it isn’t important. Forget he said that.”_**

 ** _“What happened, Samandriel?”_** Gadreel demanded. **_“What do you mean Castiel was strangled and knotted? What bruises and scars?”_**

Samandriel shrunk in on himself, realising his mistake too late. He looked to his father apologetically.

 ** _“There’s a group of people – a large group – who kidnap omega angels and demons,”_** said Dean after a while. **_“Called_ Red Devils _. They treat them horrifically and keep them locked up in underground centres until someone requests an omega slave or… ah…”_**

 ** _“Whore,”_** said Belphegor bitterly.

Dean winced. **_“Right. Then they get shipped off all over the state, sometimes country, and they never escape. Cas and Samandriel were lucky in that the police managed to find them, but so few find a way out. The ones that do are usually…”_**

 ** _“Terrified,”_** mumbled Castiel, closing his eyes as he relived the memories. **_“Violent. Traumatised.”_**

 ** _“In need of therapy,”_** murmured Belphegor, pulling his knees to his chest. **_“Scarred. In pain. Distrusting.”_**

 ** _“Plagued by nightmares,”_** whispered Samandriel. **_“Every night. Disgusted by their own body.”_**

 ** _“Alone,”_** whimpered Jack. **_“Confused.”_**

Dean’s heart ached for the four angels and demons. Jack had lost his mother to the Devils, and Samandriel, Castiel and Belphegor had actually been through the horrors of their distribution system. They had all been affected differently and whilst the physical scars may have vanished, the psychological scars would remain forever.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when Balthazar and Gadreel snarled in fury, pheromones skyrocketing.

 ** _“Tell me you killed them,”_** Gadreel snarled at Dean. **_“Tell me you killed all of them.”_**

 ** _“They raped fledglings,”_** Balthazar hissed. **_“They deserve to be tortured!”_**

Dean reared backwards in surprise, wrinkling his nose at the repugnant stench of livid alpha and beta. Actually, with Balthazar so furious, he was beginning to smell more like an alpha. Dean swallowed down his own growls. They weren’t threatening _him_ – they were just angry for Castiel.

 ** _“The majority of them are in police custody,”_** Dean said placidly.

 ** _“And Baraqiel?”_** Gadreel demanded. **_“The one that raped Castiel and Belphegor. Is he in custody?”_**

 ** _“Will the station allow visitors?”_** Balthazar asked darkly.

Dean winced, lowering his gaze slightly, and there was another spike in pheromones from the two irate angels.

 ** _“Useless alpha!”_** Balthazar snapped.

 ** _“Enough!”_** Castiel seethed, whirling on the beta. **_“I won’t have you bad-mouthing Dean. It wasn’t his fault. He and his team rescued us from that place. He also prevented me from being separated from Samandriel and thrown into a psychiatric hospital, so you_ will not _insult him!”_**

Balthazar and Gadreel recoiled at the steely tone and Dean’s heart pumped a little harder. He was pretty certain that he was developing a _thing_ for Castiel getting all authoritative and protective of him. All of his past partners had expected him to be the… well, _the alpha_. He was the one who was supposed to take charge and protect the family and do the comforting, but no one had ever done any of that for him before. Castiel was an exciting change.

 ** _“We’ll get him,”_** Dean said eventually, a determined look crossing his face. **_“We’ll find him and I promise he’ll never see daylight again.”_**

Balthazar huffed and moodily pulled Castiel towards him again, scenting and enveloping him in his wings. Castiel begrudgingly allowed the contact.

Looking put out by being alone on the opposite couch, Gadreel eyed the children and shuffled onto the floor, holding his wings open in invitation. Samandriel bit back a laugh and grabbed Jack and Belphegor’s hands, dragging them with him as he settled into Gadreel’s side.

Belphegor and Jack shared a nervous glance and seemed about to back off, but Gadreel gently knocked them with his wings and they stumbled into him, stiffening as they prepared to apologise. Gadreel curled his wings around them all protectively, tugging them into his sides with a huff. He let out a soft rumble when the demons carefully relaxed into his wings and, when they realised that the alpha wasn’t going to hurt them, they smiled at one another and inhaled his wonderful protective scent.

 ** _“That’s better,”_** teased Samandriel, cracking an eye open to grin at Gadreel.

Gadreel rolled his eyes but pulled the demons closer anyway.

Dean quirked his lips. Angels were a very tactile species considering their intolerance towards certain designations, sexualities, species, beliefs etcetera, etcetera… They obviously craved touch, so why did they limit themselves?

 ** _“I’m glad we found you again,”_** murmured Castiel after a while, squeezing Balthazar’s arm.

The beta smiled and rested his chin on the omega’s shoulder. **_“We’re not going anywhere this time.”_**

Castiel leaned into his friend, halo burning golden as he gazed at Dean with a warm and grateful smile.

**_“Good.”_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooo long chapter with surprise guests ;) Not long left now!


	27. Worthless

The station was a flurry of activity as officers rushed from one computer terminal to the next, making notes, swapping information, and typing furiously at their keyboards. There was a strong scent of determination wafting through the room and Dean and Castiel stared around themselves in surprise, wondering what all the hassle was about.

“We’ve had a break in the case,” Victor said, appearing behind them with a notebook clenched between his fingers.

Castiel and Dean startled before turning to face him. “Break?” Dean asked. “What kind of break?”

“Overnight, one of our prisoners – a driver, I think – let slip the location of the main Devil Headquarters. Turns out it’s in Kansas. Since we did so well on the last bust, FBI are happy for us to work with them.”

“Makes a change,” snorted Charlie as she tapped fiercely as her keyboard.

Victor nodded. “We’re still in the information-gathering stages. We don’t know the precise location of the facility, but we have a rough idea of-”

“Found it!” Benny crowed.

A crowd quickly formed around him, calls of, “You sure?” and “Where?” echoing around the excited officers. Victor, Castiel and Dean joined the crowd, straining to peer at the monitor.

“Just off the Old US Highway twenty-four,” said Benny, placing a finger on the monitor. “Middle of Nowhere, Kansas.”

Victor frowned. “What makes you so sure that’s the place?”

“Because that location is listed as being a North Ronaldsay sheep farm with over three-thousand ewes,” explained Benny.

The station stared at him blankly and Benny shook his head. “One; North Ronaldsays are hill breeds and that right there is all flat land. Two; North Ronaldsays are an endangered, feral breed found only in Britain. Someone didn’t do their research before creating their fake sheep farm.”

Victor raised his eyebrows. “Fan of sheep?”

“Grandfather ran a flock,” grinned Benny.

Victor nodded thoughtfully before turning to his team and clasping his hands together.

“So, we have a location. Now all we need is a plan.”

 

*             *             *

 

It was as they were cooking dinner, Samandriel sketching in the lounge and the delicious aroma of spicy tacos floating around the kitchen, did Castiel finally wrap his arms around Dean and nuzzle into his neck.

Dean glanced at the submissive wing posturing and splayed a hand over silky feathers. “Cas?” he asked worriedly. “Everything alright?”

“I never thanked you,” Castiel murmured, still nosing at his neck.

Dean’s brows drew together. “For what?”

“For not being angry with me,” Castiel whispered. “For not reacting to the revelation of my powers. For not… treating me differently.”

Dean’s gaze softened and he held the angel securely in his arms and kissed his head. “You worried I’d turn on you? Ask you to resurrect someone?” He smirked. “Take you grave digging?”

Castiel huffed out a quiet snort and nestled into his alpha’s chest. “Maybe a little,” he admitted.

Carding his fingers through the angel’s feathers, Dean rested his chin on Castiel’s head. “Never. I’d never put you at risk like that. I’d never intentionally make you uncomfortable.”

Castiel squeezed the alpha gently. “Thank you.”

Relaxed by the scent of his omega, Dean tilted Castiel’s chin up and brushed their lips together, and Castiel leaned into the kiss with a smile. They shared another kiss and then another, each one as lazy and slow as the last. By the time they pulled apart, Dean’s hand had wandered to Castiel’s cheek and the angel had wrapped his wings around them both.

Being with Castiel felt so easy. Dean hadn’t realised just how much he had forced himself to be something he wasn’t around Lisa, and then he started being himself around Castiel and it was suddenly glaringly obvious that he and Lisa were so _wrong_ for one another. He no longer felt like he had to pretend to be this tough, macho alpha that sneered at the thought of cuddles on the couch or sweet kisses in the rain. Castiel never commented about his love of fruit-scented soaps and his admiration of pretty flowers when he thought no one was looking.

Dean was so used to taking care of everyone else that it was confusing when Castiel tried to take care of him, but he was steadily learning to take as much as he gave and Castiel always seemed so pleased when he allowed himself to receive.

He and Castiel just… worked together.

It was the first relationship Dean had been in where he didn’t care if they never had sex. Sex had always played a major role in all of his relationships, but with Cas he found that it didn’t matter to him. Of course, he would drop everything right now if Cas suddenly decided he wanted Dean’s knot inside him, but their relationship felt strong enough for intercourse to be unimportant.

Dean pressed their heads together, noses bumping. “Love you,” he whispered, heat rushing to his cheeks.

Castiel smiled, slow and wide as he cocooned them both tighter in his wings. “Love you too.”

Tucking the angel into his side, Dean turned back to the pan and grinned when Castiel melted into him.

“So… you sure you want to go to Red Devil HQ?” Dean asked as nonchalantly as possible, hoping that Castiel couldn’t hear the fear pulsing through his veins. The question had been eating at him ever since the plan had been decided and Castiel had volunteered to be on the team that busted into the headquarters.

Castiel nuzzled into his neck. “It’ll be different this time,” he promised. “This time, I’ll have you beside me. No undercover missions, no intelligence gathering… just a straight-up bust.”

Dean squeezed his angel gently and scented at his hair as he stirred the peppers and onions. “Still don’t like it. Don’t like the thought of you being anywhere near any of those sickos.”

“I need this,” Castiel said softly, pulling away to stare Dean in the eye. “Please, Dean. Let me see this through. I spent five years of my life obeying their commands, _servicing_ them and their friends… Let me help to bring them down. Please.”

Dean made an unhappy sound before kissing his omega’s head. “I would never stop you, Cas. You’re free to do as you please – you know that. I just don’t like the thought of them touching you again, is all.”

There was an assessing pause before Castiel nestled into Dean’s side again. “You are a wonderful alpha, Dean. I’m lucky to have you.”

“Nah. I’m the lucky one, because you actually put up with me. Genuine miracle right there,” winked Dean.

Castiel captured Dean’s lips again, tender and adoring, and Dean hummed happily at the taste of his omega. They drew apart again, content to be so close, and Dean continued with dinner as Castiel peppered the alpha’s neck and jaw with kisses and soft nuzzles.

“I’ll be right beside you,” Dean murmured. “I’ll follow you wherever you go.”

Castiel smiled. “I know you will. I know I’ll be safe with you by my side.”

Dean rumbled, pleased. Castiel always knew exactly which buttons to press to ignite his alpha instincts and Dean absolutely adored the idea of his omega knowing him so completely. Castiel trusted and loved him and Dean was grateful for it.

“Daaaaaaaad. I’m starving,” whined a voice from the living room.

Castiel rolled his eyes and pecked Dean on the cheek. “Come grate the cheese then,” he called back.

A warm, full feeling settled in Dean’s chest as Samandriel trotted into the room. He had a family. A small family that he loved and was loved by. No one could ever take that away.

He truly was the luckiest man in the world.

 

*             *             *

 

The night before the bust was due to take place, Dean awoke to thrashing beside him. He sat upright in alarm and watched Castiel’s chest heave, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as quiet, fearful whimpers escaped his lips.

Dean moved to wake the angel, but before he could place a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, the angel bolted upright with a gasp and a wild-eyed glance around the room.

The stench of terror flooded the air and Dean swallowed down his discomfort and carefully drew the trembling angel into his arms. “Just a nightmare, Cas,” he whispered. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”

Castiel snapped wide eyes to Dean, confusion and fear lingering, then he shook his head and relaxed against the alpha with a sigh.

“Sorry, Dean,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“’S alright,” Dean murmured, wrapping his arms protectively around the omega. “Can’t control your dreams.”

Castiel rolled over and nestled into Dean’s chest with an unhappy huff. “That’s the fifth nightmare this week. I thought I was past all this.”

“You’ve been through a lot,” reasoned Dean, petting a wing. “And with everything that’s happening tomorrow, it’s understandable you might have a few flashbacks.”

“I wish they’d stop,” grumbled Castiel, scowling into the darkness. “It’s getting annoying.”

Dean smiled in amusement and nosed at his omega’s hair. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Baraqiel.”

A soft growl. “I’ll kill him.”

Castiel closed his eyes, listening to the steady thump of Dean’s heart. He squeezed the alpha affectionately.

“I should have moved on. I thought I had,” Castiel mumbled. “Yet, I still dream of him. I still feel dirty. I remember every place he touched me, every part he tarnished.” Castiel lowered his gaze, cheeks burning in humiliation. “I remember where they all touched me. Every last one of them. I still feel… owned. As though I am covered in their scents and fluids."

Castiel sidled closer to Dean. “I spend so long every morning trying to clean myself of their scents. I don’t understand. I’m no longer scarred. Physically, I’m spotless. Their scents haven’t lingered on my skin. Why do I still feel unclean?”

Dean’s heart ached and he kissed his omega’s head. “They violated you. It’s not something that just… goes away. Doesn’t matter how you look physically – you still remember everything that happened even if there isn’t any evidence left.”

Castiel cuddled his alpha tighter, shifting up his body to nuzzle into his cheek. Dean rolled onto his side, gently capturing the omega’s lips.

They held each other closer, sharing comforting kisses in the dark and drawing reassurance from their combined scents.

“I feel as though every alpha in the universe has been inside me. All except you,” Castiel whispered. “And I hate it. I hate that the one alpha I want to be claimed by has never had the opportunity to do so.”

Dean stole another kiss. “It’s alright, Cas.”

“It’s not,” Castiel growled quietly. “I feel as though my heart belongs to you and my body belongs to a bunch of people who violated me. I want their scents off me. I want every trace of them out of me.”

He kissed Dean a little harder. “I want all of me to belong to you. I want to have dreams of you making love to me, not nightmares of them raping me.”

Dean’s brows furrowed as Castiel kissed him again, firm and heated. “Wait. So, what are you saying?”

Castiel smoothly slid on top of Dean, grinding their soft dicks together as he claimed Dean’s lips hotly.

“I want you to knot me, Dean,” Castiel breathed. “Right now. I want you to mark me with your scent. I want you to cover me with bites and bruises so the whole world knows that I’m yours. I want you to touch every inch of me, make every part of me yours.”

Castiel crushed their lips together again, grinding his hips deeper against Dean’s.

“I want you to pull my wings and suck my oil glands. I want you to growl and pin me to the mattress. I want you to sink your teeth into my shoulder as you come inside me. I want my alpha’s heavy, swollen knot so deep inside me that I can’t breathe without feeling him.”

He nipped at Dean’s lips, dragging the plump flesh between his teeth until it was red and raw. “I want you to wreck me, Dean,” he breathed against the alpha’s mouth. “I want you to make me forget about all those alphas and betas who made me their bitch, and I want you to do it by ramming your very impressive knot into my dripping hole.”

Dean cursed and flipped their positions as he ravished Castiel’s mouth. They were both half-hard and Dean rutted against the omega relentlessly, savouring the way Castiel rushed to rid them both of their boxers.

“Make me yours,” begged Castiel before Dean shut him up by shoving his tongue into the omega’s mouth.

Dean gripped a wing and pulled, and Castiel keened desperately, writhing against the alpha’s body in a highly erotic display that had Dean rumbling in approval. He tugged at the wing again, admiring Castiel’s needy whimpers, then wrapped his fingers around a wing base and jerked his wrist.

Castiel arched against him with a groan and Dean latched onto his throat, working on his first hickey as Castiel threaded his hand into the alpha’s hair.

“Such a gorgeous knot,” Castiel whispered, having somehow already worked out Dean’s kink for hearing him speak during sex. “Can’t wait to have it nestled inside me where it belongs.”

Dean rumbled again, pleased by the idea that his knot had a home inside his omega. He circled a finger around an oil gland in reward and enjoyed the drag of their bodies against one another. Castiel whined, wing leaning into the touch, frantic for more.

“All hard and swollen,” Castiel murmured. “Throbbing deep inside me. Stretching me open.”

Dean slipped a finger inside the gland and relished Castiel’s groan. He flicked his tongue over a nipple before nipping at it.

“Our thighs will be covered in my slick,” moaned Castiel. “Hot, wet slick that’ll get everywhere. It’ll be all over your thick cock.”

Dean loved the sound of that. To be honest, he loved anything to do with Castiel. He scissored Castiel’s oil gland open before wrapping his spare hand around their grinding dicks. His angel thrust eagerly into his palm.

“I’ll beg for you,” Castiel groaned, head flopping backwards as Dean continued to suck a purple mark into his neck. “I’ll cry your name as I come and you’ll keep thrusting even though we’re spent. We’ll be so sensitive, but we won’t stop.”

Dean withdrew his fingers from Castiel’s oil gland and slid his hand non-too-gently over the omega’s leaking vulva. Castiel shuddered against him, bucking his hips upwards, and Dean laved his tongue over the untouched nipple.

“You could claim my ass too,” managed Castiel shakily. “I’d present for you and you’d bury your fat knot in me. When you finally pulled out, your come would drip out of me, all over the sheets. I’d be covered in my own slick and your seed.”

Dean slid two fingers into Castiel’s warm vulva, smirking at how easily they were accepted. He ravished the omega’s mouth mercilessly, tangling their tongues and nipping at his lips as he fingered the angel. What a filthy mouth his lover had.

Castiel keened, back arching and wings stretching wide as Dean quickened his pace. He clawed at Dean’s back and used his free hand to toy with the alpha’s balls until Dean rocked into his palm eagerly.

“That would be the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen,” growled Dean before Castiel smashed their lips together again.

The omega threw his legs around Dean’s hips and Dean removed his hand from Castiel’s wet hole to hump his lover’s hard cock. When they were both flushed and aching, Dean shifted again and teased at his lover’s vulva for a moment before grabbing his own dick.

Before he could rub his head over the angel’s wet entrance, Castiel caught his wrist.

“Wait,” he choked out, looking embarrassed. “Condom. I don’t know if… if Baraqiel was…”

Dean snarled and fisted a handful of feathers before crushing their lips together. He reared backwards with a narrowed glare.

“I don’t ever want to hear his name when your dick is bouncing against my stomach and your slick is smeared over my thighs, understand? How dare you say his name when ten seconds ago, my fingers were buried inside you. How dare you think of him when you are mine – when your lips are mine to ravish, when your skin is mine to mark, when your dick is mine to squeeze, when your holes are mine to ruin,” Dean hissed, jerking Castiel’s dick to prove a point. “You're mine, Castiel. Not his. Do I make myself clear?”

Castiel stared up at him with huge, round eyes and dilated pupils. His wings fluffed and he pawed at Dean submissively as he nodded.

Dean caught his jaw in a firm grip and narrowed his gaze. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” whispered Castiel, excitement making his wings shake.

Dean nipped at his lips. “What was that, Cas?”

“I belong to you, Alpha,” Castiel said louder, slowly sliding his fingers into Dean’s hair and drawing him down for a heated kiss.

“Better,” purred Dean, winking playfully at his lover. He wanted Castiel to understand that this was just for fun. Dean wasn’t about to punish Castiel for speaking a name and he would never hurt his lover. True, he wanted Castiel to forget about his assaulters’ touches, but he wanted Castiel to feel safe and loved too.

Castiel grinned, wings fluffing further as his halo flared golden.

Dean rolled off Castiel, smirking at the angel’s whines, and grabbed a condom from the drawer. He crawled onto the bed again, chuckling when Castiel snatched the little packet from him. He settled on top of his lover again and stroked his hair as Castiel struggled to open the condom.

He made a soft sound of triumph and eagerly rolled the condom over Dean’s proud erection, patting the head when he was done.

Dean laughed and sealed their lips together, rutting against his angel once more to build the tension.

Castiel smacked Dean’s ass lightly and the alpha rumbled in interest, hitching the angel’s legs over his hips once more. They made out for a long while, nipping and tasting and claiming each other’s mouths as they smoothed their hands over warm skin.

Dean slipped two fingers inside Castiel’s leaking vulva and teased at him again, rubbing and scissoring and thrusting with various pressures and depth until the angel was panting into his mouth and squeezing his ass.

Dean grabbed his dick and withdrew his fingers in order to smooth his head over the omega’s slick entrance.

Castiel paused at the sensation before tugging Dean into another kiss.

Dean nudged his head at the omega’s clitoris and the angel shifted a little and broke their kiss. Dean frowned.

“…You okay?”

Castiel looked up at Dean in surprise. “Yes, why?”

Accepting the response, Dean captured his lover’s lips again and Castiel smiled, patting his ass. Dean chuckled and stroked a wing idly as he pressed his dick inside the angel, slow and gentle.

Castiel went rigid beneath him.

Dean quickly pulled out and hovered above the angel worriedly. “Cas? You sure you’re ready for this?”

“I want you,” Cas insisted, palm cupping Dean’s cheek. However, his hand trembled a little and his gaze was uncertain.

“I don’t think-”

“I want this,” Castiel said, voice firm. “I need you, Dean. Don’t give up on me now. Please.”

Dean eyed him for a moment before nodding. “I’m not giving up on you, Cas. I just want you to be sure. We’ll go slow, okay?”

Castiel smiled and nodded, settling into the mattress more comfortably.

Dean sat back on his hocks and stroked Castiel’s vulva for a while, admiring the tight curls of dark hair and the slicked, pulsing lips. He dipped his fingers in and out, relishing the omega’s relaxed sighs and soft moans. Then he rubbed the head of his dick over the angel’s vulva, waiting for him to once again relax. With his free hand, he circled his thumb around the omega’s clitoris and smiled at Castiel’s gasp. When the angel had closed his eyes and was beginning to hum in pleasure, Dean carefully slid his dick inside the omega’s warmth.

Castiel tensed and Dean waited for him to adjust to the new pressure. When Castiel reached out for him weakly, Dean crawled up his body and kissed his mouth, slowly rolling his hips. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and pressed their foreheads together.

Dean paused. “…You alright?”

Castiel shook his head.

“Tell me?” Dean asked softly, caressing his lover’s cheek with a thumb.

“Please get out,” Castiel whimpered.

Dean rolled off Castiel in alarm and watched tears stream down the angel’s cheeks as he huddled into himself.

“I can’t,” Castiel choked out. “I can’t do it.” He looked up at Dean with big, watery eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean cooed, tugging the trembling omega into his arms and holding him close. “Hey, you’re just not ready yet. It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright!” Castiel snarled, tearing himself away from Dean as the alpha turned the lamp on. “It’s not alright because I’ve given my body to all the world except for you! Why can’t I just let you…” He began to sob, hiding his face in his knees.

“It’s to be expected after everything you’ve been through,” Dean said patiently.

“Stop pretending it’s okay!” Castiel snapped, flaring his wings angrily at Dean. “Stop pretending you’re okay with knowing that your boyfriend is a whore! Stop pretending that you don’t care how many knots have been stuffed inside me! How many people have touched this body! How many tongues have been in this mouth! Stop pretending that you’re fine with this!”

Castiel began to tremble as his voice quietened. “Stop being so understanding.”

Dean hesitated before his mouth drew into a thin line. “So, what do you want? You want me to get angry? You want me to get angry with you?”

Castiel flicked his hard gaze up to Dean’s face. “Yes,” he hissed. “Yes, I want you to be angry with me.”

Dean scowled. “Fine. You want me to be disgusted by you too? You want me to be repulsed by your body?”

“Yes,” snarled Castiel. “Yes, I want you to be disgusted by me. As you should.”

Dean threw a hand up. “Fine. I’m angry and disgusted. Want me to tell you what I really think about you? What I really feel when I think about all the hands that have been on you and the tongues and knots that have been inside you? Want to know what I think but never say?”

“Don’t hold back,” Castiel snapped, tears brimming in his eyes as he trembled.

“I hate it,” seethed Dean. “I hate knowing that all these other alphas and betas have touched you. I hate that every time I touch you, I worry that you’ll remember something from Ketch’s and you’ll shy away from me. I hate that every time I kiss you, I’m worried I’ll trigger a flashback for you and I’ll ending up hurting you in the same way they did. I hate that I’m terrified of you pulling away from me – that one day, you won’t allow me to kiss or touch or hold you because it’ll make you relive an awful memory. I hate that I’m so terrified of losing you all the time. I hate that I’m so terrified of hurting you. I don't ever want to hurt you, Cas.”

Castiel’s wings sagged. “Dean-”

“And you know what? I am angry at you! I’m angry at you for constantly putting yourself down! I’m angry at you for believing that you don’t deserve love and affection because some sick, evil people told you that the only good thing you’re good for is getting them off! I’m furious at you for wanting me to treat you as they did – for wanting me to turn my nose up at you and tell you that you deserved to be raped!”

Castiel straightened. “I never said-”

“And you know what else? I _am_ a territorial alpha asshat and I hate that my boyfriend has been violated and assaulted by dozens of people! And I’m determined to touch every inch of him until my hands and my tongue are the only ones that he can remember the exact path of! I'll kiss him until my lips are the only ones that he remembers the exact texture of! I'll suck bruises into his skin until the shapes I make are the only ones that he can ever describe!”

Castiel’s mouth clicked shut as he stared at Dean.

“Stop thinking you’re worthless,” growled Dean. “Stop telling me how I should feel about you. Stop blaming yourself for not being ready to give me a place to stick my knot – I don’t care. I’m happy with what we have. I’m happy with our evening cuddles and our cooking sessions. I’m happy with our talks and our movie nights and the time we spend together with the animals. I’m happy with your weird, random facts and the way your expression changes with the tone of the scene you’re reading. I’m happy with your exasperated smiles when I tell you a corny joke and the way you roll your eyes when you think I’m being a dork. I’m happy with everything you _do_ give me.”

“…You’re too-”

“I swear, Cas, if you finish that sentence with ‘too good for me’, I will walk out of that door right now and we will be _through_ ,” hissed Dean. “How am I supposed to love someone who doesn’t love themselves? Maybe you’re not ready for a relationship.”

Castiel blinked. “…I…Is that how you feel? That I’m… not ready?”

Dean closed his eyes and rolled off the bed, dumping the condom and pulling his boxers on. He headed towards the door. “I’ll go sleep in the spare room.”

Castiel gasped and scrambled after Dean. “Wait! Don’t leave!”

Dean whirled on the omega with a thick scowl. “You’re not ready for this, Cas! You’re not ready for any of it if you can’t see that you deserve love just as much as everyone else! You’re punishing yourself for something you were forced into and it’s not only hurting you, it’s hurting me! I can’t be with someone who hates themselves and you need to have a healthy headspace before you get into a relationship. We obviously rushed into this.”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s arm when the alpha turned away again, and gripped him tight.

“I deserve this,” Castiel said hurriedly.

Dean paused and turned back around. “What?”

“I deserve this,” Castiel said more firmly. “You’re right; I’ve been disgusted with myself for something I never asked for.”

Dean turned to face the omega fully.

“I’m ready for this,” Castiel said. “I promise I’m ready.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “Prove it.”

The angel hesitated, then released Dean’s arm with a determined frown. He lifted his wings from their nervous, submissive position tucked behind his back, and tilted his chin.

“I deserve you. I deserve to be loved and cherished by you. I deserve to be kissed by you. I…” He lost his nerve for a few seconds and Dean slowly reached for the door handle.

“I deserve to be worshipped by you,” Castiel said hurriedly. “I deserve to be treated with kindness and gentleness. I deserve to feel safe. I deserve to feel unashamed of my body.”

Castiel’s eyebrows furrowed as the words flowed faster and more freely. “It wasn’t my fault. I never asked to be used. I never asked to be beaten and assaulted. They chose to do that. They’re the ones who should be ashamed; who don’t deserve love or kindness or care. Why should I feel disgusted by myself when they’re the ones who have no morals?”

A smile slowly tugged at Dean’s lips as Castiel’s feathers began to ruffle and his halo spotted with black. This was the same fire he had seen in Castiel’s eyes back when they first met – when he had been willing to do anything just to hold his son. This was the same righteous fury that had caught Dean’s eye all those months ago.

“I won’t be a broken mess because of them,” seethed Castiel. “I was part of The Host in The Silver City. I was one of their elite agents! I worked incredibly hard to get there. Saved people’s lives. Worked five times as hard as any alpha back when I was a mere Officer. I put up with all the discrimination, all the catcalling and the sneers and the _marking_. I even gave up my damn seat on the train every day! I took care of a fledgling that my mate didn’t want and then I had to put up with her as well for several years before she unceremoniously kicked me out of the house. I put up with my family's resentment of me being being an omega. I got through my parents' tragic deaths. I survived bombings and gunfire and knifings and I even managed to flee The Host.”

Castiel’s eyes burned azure. “I’ve never let alphas or betas stop me before. Why should I let them beat me over this?” He flicked his gaze up to Dean and the alpha felt a shudder run through his spine at the intense gaze.

“I’m tired of all the shit that keeps getting thrown at me,” growled Castiel. “I want something good for once. I want _you_.” He slid his glare to where Dean’s hand was hovering over the handle and Dean could practically feel his skin sizzling from the angel’s burning gaze.

“Dean Winchester, you will not walk away from me. You will not be another alpha disappointment in my life.” He fanned his wings wide and commanding. “Now get back into bed and stop telling me that I’m not ready for a relationship. I will let you knot me when I am good and ready, and until then I will savour your cooking, allow you the privilege of tasting my sweet slick, and I will enjoy ogling your bare ass as you shuffle out of bed every morning.”

Dean licked his lips, excitement flooding his systems as he silently made his way to the bed. No sooner had he settled into the pillows did he have an armful of grumpy angel and a wing curved around him possessively.

“Stupid alphas always telling me what to do,” grumbled Castiel as he made himself comfortable on Dean’s chest.

Dean grinned up at the ceiling and wove his fingers into thick feathers as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat.

When Dean eventually flipped the lamp off, Castiel nuzzled his jaw.

“…Was that okay? I didn’t… go too far?”

Dean kissed his lover’s cheek and wrapped his arms around him. “You believe everything you said?”

At the angel’s nod, Dean chuckled. “Guess I have a lot to live up to, huh? Got to worship my omega. Cook him some good meals. Wiggle my naked ass as I lap up his _sweet slick_?”

Castiel buried his face in Dean’s neck and Dean could feel the heat rolling off him.

“Shut up,” Castiel murmured.

Dean tucked his angel into his body and closed his eyes.

“…That was really hot by the way.”

“You are the strangest alpha I have ever met. Please go to sleep before you give me an even bigger headache.”

“I get all tingly when you take control like that.”

“ _Sleep.”_

 

*             *             *

              

Leaving Samandriel with Gadreel and Balthazar had been one of the toughest things Dean had ever done. Samandriel had begged them to stay, tears streaming down his face as he clung to them and told them how afraid he was of losing them.

They tried to soothe him; tried to pet his wings and hold him and tell him that they would be back the next day, but the little omega was scared. After what had happened to his father last time he had anything to do with the Red Devils, Dean honestly couldn’t blame him.

Eventually, Balthazar had picked the weeping angel up and allowed Dean and Castiel to escape.

Dean was still disturbed by Samandriel’s wrecked bawling. It had been bad when Castiel had left last time, but the little angel’s reaction to both of them leaving was far worse. Dean had nearly made a U-turn before they even reached the station.

Currently, they were in a police van, on the way to Red Devil HQ. Dean wanted to go home. He wanted to take Samandriel into his arms and never let go. He never wanted to hear the kid’s broken wails again.

A hand slid over his own white knuckles. He turned to find Castiel smiling weakly at him in reassurance, but he could see the fear in the angel’s gaze; could see the dread and nerves; could smell the discomfort.

He slipped his arms around his lover and pulled him close, allowing Castiel to wedge his face into his neck. They held each other, drawing comfort from one another’s scents as they clung tighter to each other’s bodies.

In the front of the van, Benny and Victor were thankfully silent.

Dean nuzzled into his lover’s cheek and threaded his fingers into a wing. Castiel wouldn’t be alone this time. The omega wouldn’t go through the same scenario as he had last time, because Dean would be right by his side, keeping the sick alphas and betas away. He would keep Cas safe. He wouldn’t allow him to be hurt and humiliated by these demented people again.

“We’re gonna stop ‘em from taking anyone else, okay?” Dean whispered as he peppered Castiel’s cheek with kisses. “They’ll never lay their filthy hands on another omega.”

Castiel swallowed and nodded before nipping at Dean’s jaw. It was a weirdly submissive gesture and Dean’s alpha instincts made him rumble softly as he tugged the angel closer. He would protect his omega, even if it killed him.

They sank into their seats as Castiel made himself comfortable on Dean’s chest.

They had a long drive ahead of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter so I can give myself plenty of space for The Bust Scene ;) Hope you enjoyed it anyway!


	28. The Bust

Bare fields and sun-scorched grass stretched for miles upon the flat landscape. The old highway was as barren as the surrounding land and the road was riddled with potholes and cracked tarmac.

The entourage of unmarked police and FBI vehicles slowed to a halt, and officers and agents alike stepped onto the grass in bewilderment.

Victor swallowed as his gaze swept over the silent landscape. “…Benny…” he murmured lowly, flicking a sharp gaze to the officer beside him.

Benny frowned. “It’s here,” he insisted. “We just can’t see it yet.”

The FBI lead slowly swivelled to face Victor, somehow managing to appear disapproving despite the dark sunglasses that were obscuring his face.

“I hope you’re right,” grumbled Victor as he willed himself out of the van.

FBI lead, Diego, strode over to Victor. Benny, Dean and Castiel watched the two leaders engage in a hushed conversation that had Victor looking more and more annoyed by the second.

“It’s here,” Benny mumbled to himself as he turned back to the empty fields. “It has to be.”

Castiel spared Benny a glance before sliding out of the van. Dean followed curiously, only to step backwards when Castiel suddenly took flight and began circling the area. A few officers cast their gazes to the angel, waiting patiently as the agents started mumbling amongst themselves about incompetent police.

Castiel glided through the air for a few minutes, soaring over the land until the vans were tiny specks of black behind him. Then he came to a sharp halt and hovered for a few moments, before diving lower to the ground to inspect something he had spotted.

He raced back towards the vans and landed before Dean; hair windswept but eyes determined.

“There are mines East of here. I saw a tunnel that appears to be in use. Big enough for a vehicle to fit through.”

Dean quirked a smile at his lover and squeezed his arm in silent praise before glancing over his shoulder at Victor and Diego and jerking his head towards Castiel. Both leaders wandered over with identical frowns.

“There’s a mining tunnel not too far away. Is it possible that Red Devil HQ could be underground?” Castiel asked, standing to attention.

A slow smile swept across Victor’s face and he winked at Castiel subtly in appreciation as Diego’s brow furrowed further.

“…I suppose so,” Diego sighed reluctantly. “We should probably take a look at it at least.”

They piled into the vans again and followed Castiel’s directions to the tunnel. Once they slid outside again, Victor whistled lowly.

“Sure looks like an entrance to an underground headquarters to me. What do you think, agent?”

Diego rolled his eyes and lifted a hand to his earpiece.

“Team B, surround the perimeter. Ensure no one escapes. Team A, proceed with investigation.”

There was a sudden surge of activity and a few minutes later, Castiel and Dean found themselves tailing the FBI agents into the tunnel.

The FBI looked well-prepared with their slick helmets and body armour, compared to the officers who wore only bullet-proof vests. However, the mission was one of stealth and speed and the police wondered how capable the Feds would be with all that heavy equipment weighing them down.

Victor muttered unflattering things about Diego and his leadership under his breath as they all travelled deeper into the old tunnel, weapons at their hips and bulletproof vests making them feel at least a little more secure. Automatic lights activated on the crumbling walls as they walked and the smell of dry earth flooded their nostrils.

Suddenly, the tunnel forked into three and the group came to a halt.

“Split up,” Diego ordered. “Even groups.”

They did as ordered with Diego and his group taking the left tunnel, Victor and his group taking the right tunnel, and Castiel and Dean stalking up the middle.

Castiel’s wing brushed Dean’s back as they walked and Dean quirked a small smile at the subconscious protective behaviour. He brushed his fingers over the dark feathers and Castiel seemed to sidle closer without realising it.

The floor suddenly changed from dirt and rubble to solid concrete and their footsteps echoed loudly as they continued down the long corridor. They eventually came to a huge iron door with a keypad beside it.

An FBI agent lurched towards it and wordlessly hooked a small device up to the panel. A few minutes later, the agent pressed a few buttons and the door slid into the wall.

The group of six prowled into the room and froze at the sight that greeted them.

The space was at least four times the size of a football stadium and taking up the majority of that floor space lay hundreds upon hundreds of cramped, dirty cells.

The cells were pushed together into over a dozen rows and some were piled on top of one another with narrow, temporary walkways comprising a poor excuse for a second floor. The air reeked of sweat and fear and filth and the cells themselves mirrored the terrible scents.

Within each cell lay a single, terrified omega – a mixture of angels and demons – and they cowered upon spotting the small group. Some whined, the air growing thicker with the bitter taste of apprehension and despair; others cried in defeat, burying their heads in their hands and knees. The smell was overwhelming and the fear saturating every inch of the room was enough to weaken even the strongest stomach.

The majority of omegas bore telling marks and bruises – a horrifying picture of what their captors had done to them. They were young and old, ranging from six years to eighty-six, and each of their haunted expressions were carved into gaunt faces and thin, filth-laden bodies. Some of them would obviously never recover. Some of them would probably die from the shock of it all.

A young alpha police officer, Peter, promptly vomited.

Dean watched Castiel’s halo fade to white. The angel stepped backwards, eyes blowing wide and scent swinging sharply to fearful as he took the scene in. Dean quickly snaked an arm around his waist and tugged the angel to his side.

“Easy, Cas,” he murmured, grounding his lover in reality once again. He watched Castiel blink up at him, gaze slowly clearing as he realised whom he was with.

“Okay?” Dean asked softly, keeping Castiel’s focus on him rather than the agent who was glancing at them both in disapproval. As if Castiel’s reaction wasn’t entirely reasonable after all he had faced.

Castiel’s eyes slipped shut and he took a deep breath before nodding. Donning a brave face, he returned his attention to the cells.

They were arranged in some sort of order, with young, pretty omegas in the same rows, children in other rows, elderly omegas in another row, and strong, able-bodied omegas in the last rows.

The team wandered towards the middle corridor, between the rows of young, pretty omegas and children. They flinched away from the team but a couple paused upon scenting Castiel and they edged forwards curiously when he glanced at them.

A few voices made the group freeze and they strained to hear what was being said. Suddenly, the voices grew louder as three alphas rounded the corner into their corridor and the team quickly split and leaped into the nearest available corridors either side of them.

Dean grabbed Castiel’s wrist and dragged him up the row and into another corridor column, only to have Castiel yank him back when another alpha – this one a demon – sauntered up the same path with a clipboard, checking cell numbers and omega serial numbers.

Behind them, Peter slipped into a different corridor and Castiel made to follow him, only to stiffen when there was an angry shout of, “Hey! You’re not supposed to be here!”

Devils scrambled towards the shocked Peter and he sprinted away from them in a panic, fumbling for his gun. The rest of the team made use of the distraction and rapidly searched for an exit. Their job was to catch the bosses, not the lackeys.

Another officer, Peter’s partner, lingered behind in order to keep an eye on the younger alpha as he tried to evade capture by the Devils. If the young man’s safety was compromised, Rachit would intervene. He silently drew his weapon and stalked the perimeter of the cells.

Dean and Castiel spotted a door on the East wall as the two FBI agents spotted one on the West. The FBI agents slipped through effortlessly, but as Dean and Castiel neared the Eastern door, a Devil spotted them.

Castiel surged towards the door as the Devil raced towards them, but when the demon took flight and gained too much ground, Dean pulled backwards with a curse and ducked into another corridor.

Castiel paused in the doorway with wide eyes, staring at Dean from too far away.

“Go,” Dean mouthed, waving his hand frantically when the demon was nearly upon them. Castiel’s heart sunk but he closed the door anyway and continued his journey up another dirt tunnel, this one housing an old steel track that hadn’t seen use in decades.

The plan was to find the higher ups and radio it in so the officers and agents could surround them. They hadn’t accounted for Devil HQ being held in mines; the winding tunnels and narrow spaces would make everything ten times more difficult for them to meet up.

Castiel paused as the tunnel forked into two. He glanced between the two entrances and decided on the left one. As he travelled deeper into the mines, the light got dimmer and the air grew thicker with dust and dirt. He coughed a little and eyed the tunnel walls warily when they seemed to grow narrower and uneven. Did this tunnel even lead anywhere?

He paused when the tunnel forked into two again and this time, he took the right one so he didn’t feel as though he was walking in circles. Visibility grew poorer and he coughed again as he squinted into the darkness. He placed a hand on the lumpy wall, sending soil and mud cascading onto the floor as he continued his path. He hit a dead end.

Blinking, he patted the wall in front of him and scowled when he realised that the tunnel really did have a blind ending. He turned around and made his way back to the fork, taking the left tunnel instead. He glanced down at the steel track he had been forced to walk. Maybe if he followed that, it would lead him directly to where he wanted to be…

He traced the path of the track and when the tunnel gave way to three more and the track veered into two directions, he ignored the right tunnel since it housed no track, and carried on straight up the middle. Only to hit another dead end.

He came to a halt and glanced down at the track, watching as it continued underneath the wall of dirt that he had no hopes of breaking through.

He cursed to himself. These tunnels hadn’t sealed themselves up after years of disuse – they had been designed this way to confuse and trap intruders and any omega who tried to escape. Another problem for the police and FBI. It would take a long time for any backup to arrive if he radioed for help.

Castiel followed the track back to its split and headed up the left tunnel. It was long and winding and mining lamps grew fewer and farther between, making it difficult for Castiel to navigate.

He paused at the sound of footsteps.

Glancing around him wildly, he realised there was nowhere to hide. He jogged as quietly as he could back down the tunnel, scowling at the fact that the tunnel was too narrow for him to fly through. He made it back to the split and hid in the unexplored right tunnel as he waited for the Devil to pass.

An alpha angel with green wings sauntered out of the left tunnel, but the light was too dim for Castiel to catch a glimpse of his face.

Once he had passed, Castiel crept out of his hiding spot and returned to his original path. He came to a four-way split and growled softly, knowing that at least one of the tunnels would lead to nowhere.

After twenty minutes, it turned out that three of the tunnels led to nowhere and he pulled a face at the third wall of soil he was faced with. The radio was still silent, which meant it was likely that the other officers and agents had run into similar problems to Castiel. He sighed and began the long journey back to the four-way split.

He stilled at the sight of another angel blocking his exit.

A bright light hit his face and he held his hands up, squinting against its intensity.

“Castiel?”

Castiel’s blood ran to ice at the familiar voice and he flared his wings as best he could in the tight space. The other angel chuckled, dark and pleased as he began to advance on the omega.

“Well, well… where have I seen this scene before?”

Castiel reached for his gun. “One more step and I shoot.”

The other angel paused and tilted his burned head. “…You speak.”

Castiel growled and edged forwards, gun tight in his grip and trained on Baraqiel’s skull. “Back up.”

Baraqiel’s emerald wings rose, filling the entire width of the tunnel. “I don’t think so.”

Castiel wiggled the gun a little. “I won’t hesitate.”

The alpha chuckled again and suddenly revealed the pistol he was holding. “Neither will I.”

Castiel swallowed and flicked his gaze to the alpha’s weapon, weighing up his chances. He envied the Feds and their full-body armour. One of them was going to die in the next few minutes and Castiel really hoped that it wasn’t him.

Barqiel’s smirk turned lecherous. “We could always come to an arrangement,” he hummed suggestively. “Since we appear to be at a stalemate.”

Wrinkling his nose, Castiel steadied his weapon. The _nerve_ of this alpha!

Edging closer, Baraqiel shrugged. “I rather enjoyed our time together all those weeks ago. Maybe I could be… persuaded to give you a head-start on your journey? I suspect that you aren’t here alone. I’m willing to give you and your team a fighting chance at whatever mission you’re on if you’re willing to… reward me…”

Castiel curled his lips in disgust but Baraqiel was suddenly closer than he expected and his eyes widened in alarm when the other angel sprung towards him and closed a hand around his gun, wrestling it out of Castiel’s grip. The alpha pinned him against the dirt wall, pistol pressed against his stomach, and Castiel jerked a knee into the other angel’s groin.

Baraqiel grunted as he doubled over and Castiel swung a fist into his mutilated face before reaching for his fallen gun, but the alpha snarled and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. Castiel’s face smashed into the wall and Baraqiel pressed up against his spine with an intimidating growl, alpha dominance bleeding into his scent as his wings pinned the omega’s either side of him.

Castiel’s first instinct was to submit. His second instinct was to stamp on the alpha’s instep.

Baraqiel yelped and Castiel elbowed him in the throat. A hand shot out as Castiel scuttled towards his gun and the omega hissed as his wing was twisted and he was once again hurled against the wall. He clawed at Baraqiel’s face and the alpha’s fingers closed around his neck with a snarl.

“Ungrateful bitch,” spat Baraqiel as he grabbed Castiel’s halo and yanked.

Castiel cried out and socked the alpha in the eye, making Baraqiel stumble backwards. This time Castiel raced towards the exit, deeming his weapon a lost cause, but Baraqiel recovered quickly and tackled him to the floor. They fell harshly, Baraqiel on top of Castiel as he pinned the omega’s wrists above his head.

Castiel’s eyes widened in horror as he realised that the alpha was hard against him, clearly enjoying their fight. He bared his teeth at the disgusting creature above him and jerked his knee into the alpha’s erection. Baraqiel made a wounded sound before claiming Castiel’s mouth roughly and rutting against him.

Castiel struggled against him, clamping his mouth shut, but Baraqiel growled and began nipping down his jaw and neck instead, leaving angry bruises in his wake.

“Mmm… that’s it. Keep struggling. Let me taste your fear, omega,” purred Baraqiel as he lapped at Castiel’s throat.

Castiel flapped his wings furiously, beating the alpha’s body as hard as he could. Baraqiel used the distraction to grab Castiel’s jaw and crush their mouths together, tongue exploring every crevice of the omega. He moaned into Castiel’s mouth when Castiel clawed at his wing frantically and the omega began to sweat when his wings were restrained by the alpha’s own. The alpha tasted of rotting flesh – as though something had crawled into his mouth and died years ago.

“Gonna love watching you fight me when my knot ties us together,” breathed Baraqiel as Castiel clawed at his back one-handedly. “I’m gonna knot you so good,” whispered Baraqiel, “until you’re raw and bloody and begging me to stop.”

A whine spilled out of Castiel’s throat before he could stop it. This couldn’t be happening again. Why did this keep happening to him?

He wriggled and fought against the alpha’s hold, desperate to escape, but Baraqiel held fast and allowed his oil to drip into Castiel’s wings, marking him as his property. His burned, mutilated face felt rough and wrong against Castiel’s skin.

Bile crawled up Castiel’s throat as he fought the alpha uselessly. He was going to be knotted by this vile alpha again, after all that work Dean had done to convince him that he was strong and could move past it. He had built his confidence and dignity back up only to have it all torn down in a few measly minutes. Why couldn’t he beat this stupid alpha?!

He tried to flap his wings and cried out in frustration when Baraqiel’s kept him down. The alpha’s hand squeezed his crotch and Castiel grimaced when he felt his own belt being undone.

He smacked the alpha upside the head and immediately regretted it when Baraqiel sank his teeth into the junction where shoulder met neck, a fierce snarl bubbling in his chest.

Suddenly, Baraqiel belted Castiel across the face with his palm, angry alpha pheromones thick in the air. Castiel whimpered at the sting in his cheek and the throbbing of the claim on his neck.

Pleased by the soft whimper, Baraqiel hit Castiel again, the bruise spreading across his cheek and down his jaw and he bit the omega once more, deep and painful as he fumbled with the Castiel’s fly.

There was a wild snarl and Baraqiel’s weight suddenly disappeared.

Confused, but determined not to get caught in the same position, Castiel scrambled to his feet and gaped at the scene before him.

“Evil piece of shit!” Dean roared as he threw punch after punch at Baraqiel’s stomach and face.

The other alpha snarled animalistically and raked his nails over Dean’s cheek, and Dean released a vicious growl before body-slamming the angel into the wall. He kicked Baraqiel’s crotch, scent roiling with fury and hatred, and Baraqiel’s knees buckled with pain, so Dean kicked him again for good measure.

Suddenly, Baraqiel lunged at Dean and both alphas tumbled to the floor, kicking and tearing at one another until the ground was spattered with blood.

Dean groaned in agony when Baraqiel’s wing slammed into the side of his head, and the angel wrapped a hand around Dean’s throat and squeezed.

Alarmed, Castiel rushed forwards, but Dean jerked his knee upwards into Baraqiel’s gut and punched his throat when the angel flinched. He rolled the angel onto his back and pummelled his face until it was bruised and bloodied, before wrapping both hands around Baraqiel’s throat.

“I’ve dreamed of killing you since the day you laid your filthy hands on my boyfriend,” hissed Dean.

Castiel’s eyes were wide, wings pinned to his back as the scents of alpha fury and dominance clashed and swamped the tunnel. He had never witnessed two alphas fight like this before and he felt as though he was drowning in their pheromones. He couldn’t breathe. If this had been a couple of centuries earlier, he would have been expected to present to the winner of this battle and he cowered as some primal part of him insisted that he was about to be forcefully knotted, maybe even mated. His omega instincts to submit and admit defeat had never gripped him so strongly before, but he plastered himself against the wall and could do nothing more than try to breathe through the overpowering scents.

“Your boyfriend’s a dirty whore,” Baraqiel choked out before slamming his wing into Dean’s side.

Dean stumbled with a whine and Baraqiel hit his head with a wing bone once more until the human crumpled. Baraqiel crawled on top of him and hit him again.

“And he looks beautiful at the end of my knot,” he smirked.

Dean attempted to cover his head with his arms as Baraqiel’s wings dealt blow after blow against his skull, but he eventually gave up and clawed his nails down the angel’s burned face, digging deep. When his nail struck an eyeball, Baraqiel howled in agony and momentarily ceased his attack to hold his hands over his stinging face, so Dean grabbed his halo and pulled as hard as he could.

Baraqiel screamed when the halo was yanked further away from his crown than it was ever made to move, and Dean only released it to grab his hair and smash his face into the ground.

He reached for his gun but Baraqiel’s wing swept it from his grip and it sailed a good few metres through the air. Dean bared his teeth as it clattered to the ground and he swung his knuckles at Baraqiel’s mouth. The angel released a hair-raising snarl and dragged Dean into the dirt, and the pair tore at one another again, painting each other’s bruised skin and clothes in crimson.

Nails ripped through ruined flesh and blood slicked their grips on one another as they growled like feral animals, and then it was all over.

Dean’s chest heaved as he slowly removed his hands from Baraqiel’s throat.

He clambered to his feet, panting, and stared down at the mess of Baraqiel’s corpse. A low growl rumbled from his chest.

“Don’t _ever_ talk about my boyfriend like that,” he spat, kicking the dead alpha angrily.

Castiel stared at Dean, eyes as wide as saucers. Whilst Baraqiel’s scent was beginning to dissipate, Dean’s emotions were still heavy and repressive in the air. He smelled territorial.

He watched as the alpha limped towards him, blood cascading down his face and body where his clothes had been torn in the fight. Ugly bruises littered the alpha’s skin and one eye was slightly swollen. A continuous growl droned from his chest and he wheezed a little as he breathed.

He came to a halt in front of Castiel and cupped the omega’s unbruised cheek as he inspected the bites and bruises that Baraqiel had inflicted, a scowl marring his face.

“You okay, Cas?” he asked softly, as though the past few minutes hadn’t happened.

Castiel blinked at the alpha.

Dean carded gentle fingers through Castiel’s hair. “He’ll never hurt you again. I promise. I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner.”

Castiel licked his lips wordlessly and continued to stare at Dean.

Dean’s hand trailed over his shoulder and down his arm until he could lace their fingers together tenderly. “Cas? Tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

Castiel flicked his gaze briefly to Baraqiel’s body before returning his focus to Dean.

Dean closed his eyes and carefully leaned their heads together. “Say something,” he whispered.

Castiel slotted their lips together.

He heard Dean’s muffled sound of surprise and cupped the alpha’s head before kissing him harder, more desperately. He wound his arms and wings around the alpha and kissed him again and again, uncaring of the taste of blood and the dull pain in his face.

He pulled Dean with him as he let his back fall against the wall and the alpha straightened in surprise as Castiel tugged him closer.

“Cas?” Dean asked quietly in bewilderment.

“Yes, alpha?” murmured Castiel as he nuzzled at his lover’s jaw and scented at his throat. His alpha smelled _delicious._ Like home and safety.

Whilst Dean’s pheromones had been furious and territorial on the surface, below that there was love and worry and fear and an all-consuming will to protect his lover. Now that Baraqiel’s scent was fading, Castiel could smell all of it.

He peppered kisses over his alpha’s neck, wishing he could soothe his injuries, and then he purred, soft and adoring as he closed his eyes and nestled into his lover’s strong body.

Dean had fought an angel to defend his dignity. Dean had killed another alpha to protect him.

Castiel had never felt such a burning need to belong to someone, but he wanted Dean to mark him. He wanted to wear Dean’s scent and bear his mark and he wanted to be claimed by the alpha. By _his_ alpha.

Dean gave in to Castiel’s enticing purrs and kissed the omega’s jaw and neck. He worked his own scent into Castiel’s skin as he backed the omega further against the wall and Castiel easily bared his throat for Dean, allowing the alpha to kiss and nip and suck at the tempting skin.

“I’ve never seen you like that before,” Castiel whispered, eyes closed in bliss as Dean licked an erotic stipe over his throat. “I’ve never seen you so…”

“Crazy?” mumbled Dean as he pressed up against his omega and growled possessively. “Murderous?”

“Righteous,” Castiel breathed, tangling his fingers in Dean’s hair. He sealed their lips together and let Dean ravish his mouth.

“You saved me,” he whispered as he pulled back, gratitude brimming in his gaze. “You fought to protect me.”

Dean tightened his grip on Castiel’s waist. “I will always fight for you,” he snarled. “I will always protect you.”

Castiel melted into his alpha’s hold with a submissive whine and Dean kissed his bruised neck.

Castiel had never felt so… needy. He wanted to be held by his alpha, to be surrounded by him and his scent. He wanted all of Dean’s kisses and growls and nuzzles. He wanted Dean to pin him against the wall and mark him as his. He wanted Dean to bite and suck and lick and kiss every bruise Baraqiel had made until the only marks he wore were Dean’s. He wanted to present to Dean. He wanted to offer himself to his alpha. He wanted Dean to claim him.

A loud purr droned from Castiel’s chest as Dean pressed their bodies flush; Castiel’s back trapped against the tunnel wall. The alpha scented and nuzzled the angel’s neck, kissing and nipping soft skin for a few minutes as Castiel closed his eyes in contentment. He could feel Dean’s need to be reassured. He could smell the lingering worry and Dean’s need for comfort from his omega.

Castiel sealed them away from the world in his wings and splayed his hands possessively over his alpha’s neck and back.

Castiel had always hated the dated tales of omegas giving themselves to the victor of mindless alpha brawls. He had always despised the idea of alphas fighting to the death over an omega they either didn’t know or wouldn’t care about once they had knotted them. He had never understood the appeal of a violent alpha.

However, watching Dean kill Baraqiel had somewhat changed Castiel’s mind about omegas being stupid for submitting to the victors of alpha brawls.

Gentle Dean, who was usually found feeding cattle and grooming his beloved horse – the patient alpha who had taught Samandriel English and had never laid a finger on Castiel even when the omega had beaten him up on his first few nights in the alpha’s own home – the same caring alpha who held both Samandriel and Castiel through their nightmares and cooked beautiful meals for them and told them that he was only happy when they were happy... his kind, loving Dean had just torn into another alpha to prevent Castiel from being violated. His gentle alpha was willing to _kill_ to keep him safe.

“I love you,” Castiel breathed as he clutched at Dean’s back, irritated by the bulletproof vest that was preventing him from feeling his lover’s gorgeous body.

Dean kissed his neck tenderly, a contented rumble escaping his chest. “I love you too, Cas.”

Castiel wilted into Dean’s hold, focusing on the homely scent of freshly baked bread, leather, and cedarwood. He had never felt so desperate to be close to someone – to be held and marked and claimed by someone. He wasn’t even on his heat and yet he wanted the world to know who he belonged to, who loved him.

Dean tangled their fingers together and pulled away from Castiel reluctantly. Castiel let out a soft whine and chased after his warmth.

“We have to keep moving,” Dean murmured, stroking the angel’s hair with a fond, amused gaze as Castiel snuggled into his shoulder. “We still have a mission to complete.”

Castiel huffed irritably. “Promise me that the second we get home, I can have you to myself,” he demanded.

Dean grinned and nodded before snuffling at his neck happily. “You can do whatever you want with me when we get home.”

Castiel squeezed his alpha’s hand, butterfly wings beating his chest as he slowly led Dean out of the tunnel and into the only one that he hadn’t yet walked down.

He kept a tight grip on Dean’s hand, unwilling to lose contact with his alpha for even a second, and Dean seemed no better judging by the way he kept brushing his fingers over Castiel’s huge wings. Castiel smiled. He was hopelessly in love with this alpha and he could tell that his feelings were very much returned.

He did worry about Dean’s limp however, and the variety of injuries he was sporting from his fight with Baraqiel. If any Devils tried to attack them, Castiel would have to protect his lover.

He would do anything for Dean. He would do _everything_ for Dean.

This tunnel was much longer and narrower than the rest and it took a while for them to reach its end. When they did, they were faced with a single steel door.

Castiel’s wings drooped a little as he eyed the door. How were they supposed to unlock it?

He pushed tentatively on the handle, shocked when it swung open. Behind him, Dean made a noise of surprise.

They stepped into a small-ish room with walls lined by wooden cubicles that looked a lot like offices. Each cubicle had a small, square window cut into it. The doors all bore nameplates.

At first glance, the cubicles appeared empty. Upon closer inspection, two of the six cubicles were occupied, but their inhabitants wore headphones and seemed focused on whatever it was that they were writing.

Castiel and Dean ducked down quickly and inspected the nameplates.

_Sadiq Haran. Theziel Zuric. John Kurtis…_

Were these six people the bosses? The ones in charge of the entire operation?

Dean tapped Castiel’s wing and pointed to a wooden door between the cubicles. It also had a nameplate, but this one was covered in filth and looked as though it had been worn down over years of use. If Castiel squinted, he could just about make out the name _ANNA SMIT._

Was she the Big Boss then? The founder? The Evil Mastermind behind this whole insidious operation?

They backed into the tunnel once more and Dean radioed for backup. No ordinary lackeys would have offices, especially not this deep into the tunnel system. They couldn’t be just secretaries either – there were too few of them to be running the phones for Devil headquarters. They had to be more important than that. Plus, those offices had been standing for some time – this part of the facility was well-established.

It would take a while for the police and FBI to work their way through that tunnel system, even with Dean’s hushed directions. Their approach would likely draw attention of the Devils, too. The bosses may try to escape in that time and that was something none of them could afford to let happen.

Castiel eyed Anna’s door. Two against one were good odds. If they could just slip past the two humans in the first room…

“If we’re quiet, we can get to Anna,” Castiel whispered to his lover.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Backup is on its way.”

“By the time they get here, they might have already escaped,” Castiel murmured, jerking a thumb into the room they had just been inside. “We could leave Sadiq and John to the team, but we could grab Anna and make sure she doesn’t escape…”

Dean’s brows furrowed. “Think she’s the one in charge?”

Castiel nodded. “Why else would she get her own office? I don’t know about you, but I don’t want that woman out on the streets, continuing with business. If she’s the one coordinating everything and paying her employees’ wages, I doubt the operation will run smoothly with her in custody.”

Dean eyed the room contemplatively before slowly nodding. “Alright, leave the directors, go straight for the boss. You’re right; we shouldn’t let her escape.”

Castiel smiled at his alpha before crawling into the room again and pausing to see if Sadiq or John had spotted them. When it was clear that they were distracted by paperwork and their own headphones, Castiel and Dean crawled towards Anna’s door, hiding between two cubicles as they pushed on the handle experimentally.

Locked.

Castiel swallowed and shared a glance with Dean before quietly knocking on the door. They hoped Sadiq and John hadn’t heard.

When there was no answer, Castiel grimaced and knocked a little louder.

The sound of pen scratching at paper stopped. Headphones were removed in confusion.

Anna’s door suddenly swung open and a woman snarled, **_“What?”_**

Castiel lunged for the woman without looking, knocking her back into her office as Dean scrambled in after them and locked the door before Sadiq or John could investigate the noise.

The office was large and… better described as a small house.

There was a queen-sized bed in one corner and a kitchen area complete with fridge and microwave in another. There was a couch and a bookcase and a set of cupboards as well as a toilet and large sink at the far side of the room. There were framed pictures, a desk, and a mini-heater, and Dean looked around in shock because this wasn’t what he had been expecting of an Evil Mastermind at all. Was that a stuffed fluffy bunny on the bed?

Castiel was also stunned. But not by the room.

He stared down at the dark-haired woman he had pinned beneath him, the sweet scent of strawberries and buttercream and dewdrop-laden grass filling his nostrils.

This was not the slimy alpha boss he had anticipated.

 ** _“Hannah?”_** he choked out.

Hannah Smith stared up at her ex-mate in bewilderment. **_“…Castiel?”_**

There was a long moment where neither angel said anything as they stared at one another, dumbfounded.

 ** _“What have you done?”_** Castiel whispered in Enochian, face paling as he gazed at the omega he had once loved.

Hannah narrowed her eyes. **_“What I had to.”_**

Castiel stared down at the other omega in horror and grunted in pain when she suddenly jerked her knee into his stomach. She scrambled out from under him and flicked her wary gaze to Dean before eying Castiel in disgust as he stood.

 ** _“I came to Earth years ago. After those blasted alphas you chose over me,”_** Hannah hissed. **_“The Host fired me. Called my methods of interrogation ‘too intense’. Said I enjoyed it too much. Their screams…”_** A twisted, glazed-over look appeared in Hannah’s eyes for a brief moment as she cast her mind back to Gadreel and Balthazar’s capture.

Castiel swallowed and took a step towards Dean, raising his wings slightly to shield his alpha. There was something… different about Hannah. Colder. Sicker. She even smelled wrong.

Hannah caught the protective gesture and scowled. **_“You always chose alphas over me.”_**

 ** _“Why?”_** Castiel breathed. **_“Why did you do this? All those innocent people kidnapped and abused… Why?”_**

 ** _“Because,”_** Hannah growled, **_“I needed the money. I arrived here with nothing and no idea where to go. I’d been here less than a day when a couple of alphas kidnapped me. Stuffed me in the back of their van and locked me in their basement. The things they did…”_**

She snapped her gaze to Castiel, a wild look in her eyes. **_“I was their slave,”_** she hissed. **_“I cleaned up after them. I cooked for them. I presented for them when they demanded it. I had no choice. They wouldn’t even let me outside. Kept me locked up like a prisoner for eight months before I finally escaped.”_**

She eyed Dean in disgust. **_“Alphas are all the same. They only want one thing. The men I escaped from – it wasn’t only them that I was expected to present for. Their alpha friends paid to knot me too. I was in so much pain…”_**

Her gaze flicked back to Castiel. **_“And when I did escape, I knew I couldn’t go to one of those hostels. I couldn’t trap myself in another house, constantly waiting for the alpha staff to knock on my door and take what they wanted. I tried to live on the streets for a bit. Alphas kept asking for sex. Some were willing to pay. I took the money because I had none._**

**_“I basically became a prostitute. Then, a young girl came to me. Another omega. She was eighteen and had run away from her parents. Human. She was cold and hungry and she could see that I had food. An alpha rolled up beside us and asked how much for the girl. The more I insisted that she wasn’t for sale, the more money he offered. I eventually convinced her that the alpha was here to help and all she had to do was step into his car. She did, I got the money and I never saw her again._ **

**_“I realised that I could sell other people’s bodies and still get money without having to go through the pain of presenting myself to a random stranger. It was hard at first. The omegas fought back when I tried to grab them off the streets. Nearly got arrested a few times. A beta offered to help me if he was allowed to screw the people we caught. I agreed and we built a system of grabbing an omega and offering them to a paying client. Word got around and the business grew. I had enough money to buy a crappy house.”_ **

She glanced around the room. **_“More and more people came to see me. I couldn’t keep up and since I couldn’t do anything else… I started hiring alphas and betas to help me with catching. The omegas became a problem. We couldn’t keep letting them go because they tried to tell on us. I built an underground centre – this mine – to keep them in when the alphas were finished with them and I recycled them with other alphas. The business just kept getting more popular and I began investing the money in vans and equipment and employees. I paid people to show me how to avoid law enforcers. I paid people to distribute the omegas when I couldn’t keep up with demand. I learned how to deal with disloyal employees and paid people to do it for me.”_**

She smiled. **_“Now, I don’t even have to get my hands dirty. I just oversee the numbers and make sure everything runs smoothly.”_**

Castiel stared at the other angel in horror. **_“You’re abusing innocent omegas! You’re doing the very thing you condemned alphas for on The Silver City! How could you?”_**

Hannah scowled. **_“If those omegas can’t fight off my catchers and can’t escape from my clients, then they deserve everything that comes to them. It’s omegas like that who keep the weak and submissive stereotype alive. They’re the reason why alphas think our only use is a hole for a knot.”_**

Castiel’s eyes widened and he shook his head slowly. **_“You’re insane,”_** he whispered.

Hannah pursed her lips and flared her wings. **_“No. I escaped. I’m just stronger than them. Like you. You escaped. You escaped twice – once from Ketch and again from my Kansas distribution facility.”_**

 ** _“You knew?”_** Dean snarled suddenly, unable to hold himself back any longer. He had already figured out who this angel was. **_“You freakin’ knew he was being abused? You knew he was at Ketch’s?”_**

Hannah raised an unimpressed eyebrow. **_“Of course I knew. I have his files here somewhere. His and Samandriel’s.”_** She wandered over to her bookcase as Castiel choked out, **_“Samandriel’s?”_**

Hannah nodded mildly and fingered a group of records. **_“Obviously. Ah here we are. You were at Ketch’s for five years as a whore. You serviced every alpha and beta that came through his door and raised quite a bit of profit for us. You always were efficient at everything you did. Samandriel turned some profit too.”_**

Castiel could barely breathe. He felt hot and light-headed and he was grateful for Dean pressing up against his back and placing a grounding hand on his hip as he growled furiously at Hannah.

 ** _“You evil bitch,”_** Dean snarled. **_“You’re sick in the head.”_**

Hannah laughed sharply, as though it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. **_“That’s ironic, coming from an alpha. This whole operation runs on alphas. Alphas catch the products, alphas transport the products, alphas distribute the products, alphas use the products… It’s your kind that keeps me in business. If anyone’s sick in the head, it’s you alphas.”_**

Castiel shook his head, glad for Dean’s hand on his hip. **_“Why only angels and demons?”_**

Hannah shrugged. **_“I never learned English. Can’t communicate with human omegas.”_** She peered up at Dean thoughtfully. **_“Your alpha must be at least somewhat intelligent if he’s fluent in Enochian. I’m surprised; he looks particularly aggressive."_**

Covered in blood and bruises and scent reeking of protectiveness over his lover, Dean bared his teeth at Hannah. Hannah clicked her tongue in distaste.

 ** _“You’re under arrest,”_** Castiel said quietly, unable to process everything. **_“For abduction, physical and sexual abuse, abuse of minors, implementation of forced sex work-”_**

 ** _“No, I’m not,”_** Hannah smiled lightly.

Castiel scowled and took a step towards her. **_“You have the right to remain silent, but anything you do say may be used against you in a court of-”_** He snapped his mouth shut when Hannah casually drew a gun from between a stack of records in her bookcase. She fingered it lovingly.

He heard Dean ready his own weapon behind him.

 ** _“Drop the gun, Hannah,”_** said Castiel carefully.

She aimed the barrel at his face.

 ** _“Do you really think this is my first time running into the police?”_** she asked softly, stroking the trigger. **_“There’s a reason I’ve not been shut down.”_** She tilted her head in amusement. **_“Well, that and the fact that no one expects a weak, innocent omega to be capable of running this sort of business.”_**

**_“Hannah, please-”_ **

**_“I can’t let you leave, Castiel,”_** she continued. **_“You understand, right? I can’t let you ruin my life again. I’m finally happy. I’ve finally made a new life for myself after you wrecked my last one. I can’t let you just… walk away.”_**

She flicked the safety off.

Castiel slowly held his hands up, stretching a wing out to stop Dean from rushing to his rescue. **_“You’re better than this,”_** he whispered despite the fear in his veins making his heart triple in pace. **_“Remember all those missions you completed with The Host? All the thousands of people you saved? The people we saved together… We were a fantastic team, remember?”_**

Hannah nodded. **_“I remember. I had your fledgling and he ruined it all. The team hated me. You turned against me. You chose those stupid alphas over me. You made me into the villain and then, you abandoned me.”_** She shrugged and trained the gun between Castiel’s eyes. **_“I can finally get some well-deserved justice for everything you did to me.”_**

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his arms over his head as Hannah pulled the trigger.

There was a _bang_ and a heavy _thud_ and Castiel flinched, but frowned when he realised that he couldn’t feel any sharp pains. He opened his eyes slowly, only for his heart to leap into his throat when he noticed that the angle of Hannah’s gun had changed and the barrel was now pointing to a spot behind Castiel.

He turned, nausea bubbling in his stomach as heat prickled his skin, and gazed upon Dean’s still body sprawled over the grotty floor.

 ** _“DEAN!”_** he cried, racing to the fallen alpha and dropping to his knees beside him. He placed his hands over the bloody wound on his temple and tried not to think about how slick his fingers were becoming.

 ** _“I could smell him all over you,”_** Hannah said quietly, disgust in her voice.

Castiel ignored her. Tears cascaded down his cheeks as he realised that the alpha was no longer breathing. He was going to vomit.

 ** _“No,”_** he begged, his shaking free hand reaching for Dean’s face and chest, uncertain where to land. **_“Please, no.”_**

He pumped on the alpha’s chest, once, twice, over and over, desperate for some sort of reaction – a gasp, a groan… anything.

 ** _“He’s dead, Castiel,”_** Hannah offered calmly as she raked her gaze over Dean’s body. **_“He deserved it. They all do.”_**

Castiel stilled, a storm of fury and hatred welling in his heart and battling with the fear and agony of losing his alpha.

Hannah watched idly as crimson liquid trickled out of Dean’s head. A reminiscent smile wormed its way onto her features.

 ** _“Do you know why I make my alphas and betas wear red?”_** she hummed. **_“It’s to remind them of all the omega blood they help to spill every day. To remind them that they help to hurt omegas. They beat them and rape them until they’re bloody and crying and then they move onto the next one and do exactly the same. I make sure that my employees never forget what kind of monsters they are.”_**

She smiled at Dean’s corpse. **_“If they die or get caught, I consider it a victory. One less evil alpha or beta on the streets. You see… I can’t lose. They make me money by being alive and when they die, it’s a blessing. You should be grateful, Castiel. Alphas raped and abused you. They hurt Samandriel.”_** She gestured to Dean. **_“I’ve just got rid of this one for you. This alpha who tried to mark you with his scent. This alpha who has claimed you; who was violent and territorial and saw you as nothing more than a warm, wet hole to knot. You should be thanking me.”_**

Castiel trembled with white hot rage, back to the other angel.

Hannah sighed at his silence and edged forwards, placing the barrel of her weapon to the back of Castiel’s head. **_“I’ll be gone long before your team find my office. I won’t let you wreck my life again.”_**

The second the gun made contact with his skull, Castiel threw his wings out and knocked the other angel off balance. He whipped out his own gun and rolled out of the way when Hannah aimed her weapon at his face. The bullet lodged itself in the wall behind him and he took cover behind her desk.

Suddenly, a bullet tore through his wing and he cried out in pain and flicked his gaze to the small hole in the desk that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. He crawled away from the desk in time to dodge a second bullet.

He heard Hannah edge towards him and adrenaline poured through his veins as he sprung into the open and fired a bullet into Hannah’s shoulder. She howled, clutching at the wound, and he surged forwards and knocked her weapon from her grip.

As he rushed to press his gun to her heart, pure loathing and thoughts of revenge clouding his mind, he was suddenly aware of her grace infiltrating his mind.

His eyes widened and he glanced over at Dean as she began to manipulate his emotions.

He would never hold Dean again. He would never feel the warmth of his body or the tender press of his lips. He would never hear his infectious laugh or his deep, soothing voice. He would never see his bright eyes and the dusting of freckles over golden skin.

He would never be mated by Dean. He would never again experience the alpha’s love or the life they had looked forward to. Samandriel would lose a parent. Just when they had all found happiness in each other, it would be ripped away from them in the harshest way possible.

…What if Dean had been in pain? What if he had been terrified and in agony as that bullet pierced his skull? Castiel never even got to say goodbye. How could he face Samandriel after this? How was he supposed to tell his son why Dean would never come home?

He couldn’t breathe. His chest and head hurt. Tears flooded his face and he realised that he was making hysterical sounds as he reached a hand out towards his lover. His wings twitched frantically and his halo flashed white and blue.

He couldn’t do this without Dean. He couldn’t live without Dean, not now. Not after everything they had been through. It wasn’t supposed to end this way!

 ** _“Dean,”_** he sobbed.

The feeling of Hannah trying to tear his gun from him shocked him out of her trance. He smashed his knuckles into her mouth and her head slammed against the floor, a groan ripping from her throat.

Without a second thought, he wedged his gun against her rib cage and fired.

She stilled and Castiel slowly clambered to his feet. He gazed at her coldly for a moment before firing another shot into her skull.

 ** _“For Dean,”_** he whispered.

He dropped his weapon and scarpered towards Dean, not registering the two figures frozen in shock in the newly-busted doorway.

Without a single hesitation, he placed his hand over the wound in Dean’s head and closed his eyes, forcing his grace into his lover.

Castiel’s hands began to glow like sunlight and then, Dean’s corpse began to follow, every blood vessel sparking with bright oranges and golds until the light eventually grew too intense to look at. Injuries from his fight with Baraqiel began to fade, the light healing everything it touched and resetting the alpha's body to how it was supposed to be.

Dean bolted upright with a startled gasp, gripping Castiel’s arm reflexively before loosening his hold when he realised who he was with.

Castiel’s grace receded, taking the light with it, and when he slid his hand to Dean’s cheek, the bullet hole in the alpha’s temple had vanished. Castiel cupped his lover’s cheek and pressed their heads together with a relieved sigh.

“Your ex is a psycho,” Dean whispered after a moment.

Castiel choked out a hysterical laugh and pressed his lips to his alpha’s.

“Cas, your wing,” Dean said in alarm as he pulled away from his mate to inspect the bloody injury. His feathers were tacky and dark and the wound still appeared to be weeping.

Castiel huffed and grabbed his lover’s hands, squeezing them in search of comfort. “Doesn’t matter. None of it matters, Dean.”

Dean’s gaze softened and he pulled the omega closer, not mentioning the corpse of Castiel’s ex slumped a few feet away from them. Castiel nuzzled his alpha’s neck and Dean rumbled softly in reassurance.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Castiel whimpered quietly.

“I’m here,” Dean murmured, petting a raven wing. “You brought me back.”

They took comfort in each other’s arms, scenting and nuzzling one another until they were certain that they were both safe.

“Okay, so… anyone want to explain what just happened?”

Dean and Castiel startled at the new voice and snapped horrified gazes to the wide-eyed Victor and Benny, who were frozen in the doorway.

Dean tightened his grip on Castiel and growled in warning. “How much did you see?”

Victor scowled. “Enough to know that Castiel’s power is resurrection.”

Castiel paled, wings trembling, and Dean held him closer and snarled at his boss.

“Easy there, brother,” said Benny, holding his hands up. “We can keep a secret.”

Castiel paused and cocked his head to one side as Dean relaxed a little. “…You’d do that?” Castiel asked quietly. “What’s the catch?”

Benny frowned. “No catch.”

“Is that why you fled Heaven?” asked Victor. “Someone found out. Threatened you?” His gaze flicked to Hannah suspiciously.

Castiel nodded slowly and stood, Dean quickly following suit. “…You don’t want to use me? You’re not going to call someone and have me locked up?”

Victor wrinkled his nose. “What? And lose my best agent? No, of course not.” His gaze softened. “We won’t turn you over to the government or anything like that, Castiel. And we’re not going to force you to use your powers if you don’t want to use them.”

Benny grinned. “Yeah, we get why Dean’s a special case. We’re not gonna complain if he gets preferential treatment.”

Castiel cheeks heated as Dean let out a relieved sigh and nuzzled into his neck, arms slipping around his waist.

“Besides,” chuckled Victor, “I think Dean might kill us both if we even thought about forcing you to use your powers.”

“Damn right,” growled Dean, still nosing at Castiel’s neck.

"Anyway, you two alright?" Benny asked with a concerned frown, glancing around the bullet holes in the wall and desk and Hannah's lifeless body. "Other than Dean dying?"

Castiel released a shaky breath as he relaxed into Dean’s hold. He glanced up at Benny and Victor with a grateful nod and felt something warm and hopeful uncurl in his chest. Other than Gadreel and Balthazar, his old team with The Host hadn’t been trustworthy. They had turned against him the moment they found out about his power. Maybe this time would be different? Maybe instead of being used as a weapon to build armies or something equally as sinister… maybe his power could be used to protect his new team? They seemed to genuinely care about him…

“Might wanna keep this quiet around the Feds,” Benny offered worriedly. “Something tells me they wouldn’t be so… understanding. Maybe don’t mention Dean getting shot in the head.”

A smile crawled over Castiel’s face. Dean squeezed him gently.

“Thanks,” Dean whispered beside his ear.

Castiel carded his fingers through Dean’s hair, uncaring of the other alpha pair watching on.

It was finally over. He had Dean back, the Red Devils’ leader was dead, the police and FBI were most likely making arrests right now, Baraqiel was gone, Samandriel was safe, he had Balthazar and Gadreel back, and when he got home, he was going to let his terribly brave and protective alpha have his way with him.

Victor smiled knowingly. “How about you two take a couple of days off? You deserve it.”

Benny arched an eyebrow. “Do I deserve it?”

Victor snorted. “Did you take down the leader of a sinister, nationwide abduction operation? Didn’t think so. You get to come in and do paperwork with me.”

Benny sagged as Castiel and Dean chuckled.

Two days together sounded perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So with all the Covid19 craziness, my uni have told me not to come in for 6 months :/ On the bright side, I guess it means I can write more fics ;) Hope you're all keeping safe - we can get through this.


	29. A Happy Ending

“Dad!”

Castiel let out a soft _oof_ as he was ambushed by his son. There was an echoing sound from Dean as the young omega ploughed into him soon after.

Balthazar, Gadreel and Jack stood a little distance away, allowing the family to reunite first before they greeted Castiel and Dean.

“Dad, your wing!” Samandriel suddenly gasped, horrified. “Your face!”

Castiel brushed his fingertips over his cheek and grimaced at the dull ache. He had forgotten about his own fight with Baraqiel.

“What happened?” Samandriel demanded before eying Dean suspiciously. “And why is Dean not all scratched up?” He furrowed his brows, mind racing and Castiel tugged his son into a hug before Samandriel came to the correct conclusion and began to panic. None of them needed that sort of drama right now – he and Dean were exhausted and they just wanted to plop into bed after all the arrests they had made that afternoon. First, they had to actually make it home though.

Castiel couldn’t help but press his nose into his son’s neck. After such a long, emotional rollercoaster of a day, he needed the comfort of family.

Samandriel tensed in his arms and Castiel bit back a sigh.

Samandriel pulled back to glance at his father with wide eyes. “Did Dean…?”

“He’s alright now and that’s all that matters,” Castiel murmured softly.

“Your dad saved me,” Dean smiled, ruffling Samandriel’s hair affectionately. “And he killed the bad guy.”

Samandriel stared up at his father with awe in his gaze and Castiel huffed quietly.

“Well, Dean saved me from Baraqiel.”

“Did you kill him?” Jack asked abruptly, taking everyone by surprise with the dark look in his eyes. He smelled protective and Castiel wondered if the little demon was thinking about Belphegor.

“Yes,” Dean said firmly, a look of understanding passing between him and Jack. The little demon relaxed.

“Good,” he murmured, startling Balthazar and Gadreel.

Jack ambled forwards and took Castiel’s hand gently into his own. A familiar warm and silky sensation spread through Castiel’s body and he watched in fascination as his bruised knuckles and the hole in his wing began to heal. When he was whole was more, he smiled down at Jack in tired appreciation.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

Jack grinned back and hugged him briefly before returning to Balthazar’s side. Balthazar squeezed the demon’s shoulder with a warm smile and Jack beamed up at him.

“You must be exhausted,” said Gadreel after a moment. “And starving. Would you like to stay for dinner? It’s Nacho Tuesday.”

Dean perked up and slid a puppy-dog expression to Castiel – one that wasn’t quite as impressive as his brother’s but was still effective in making Castiel chuckle.

“That sounds great. We wouldn’t be imposing?”

Gadreel shook his head. “Not at all. We have plenty of food. You can tell us how the bust went.”

“Sit down,” insisted Balthazar, leaping into action. “Would you like drinks? Maybe something strong after the day you’ve had? I’ll drive you home if you like?”

Dean and Castiel let themselves be guided onto the couch. They collapsed with a relieved sigh and watched Balthazar and Gadreel bustle around the house.

Castiel sighed and leaned against Dean as he curved a wing around his human’s back.

No more Red Devils.

 

*             *             *

 

The clock read _2:34 am_. Samandriel had been in bed for at least an hour and Dean and Castiel probably should have been asleep too. Unfortunately, their minds were too active for that, despite the exhaustion in their eyes.

Head pillowed on Dean’s chest and his wings wrapped protectively around them both, Castiel stared through the darkness at their interlaced fingers.

“Do you think Victor and Benny were telling the truth?” Castiel asked quietly. “About keeping my power a secret? What if they tell someone?”

Dean was silent for a few moments as he carded his free hand through a raven wing. “They’re loyal,” he whispered. “Always have been. They won’t sell you out.” He paused. “Although I can’t say what they’ll do if one of our team goes down in the line of duty.”

Castiel grimaced. “I was afraid of that.”

“They can’t force you,” Dean said firmly. “It’s your power and they can’t bully you into using it.” He released a sigh. “Benny and Victor… they’re good guys. Vic treats his team like family and if he does ask you for anything… it’s only because he cares about us all.”

Dean kissed his lover’s hair, lips lingering over the silky strands. “He cares about you too though. He won’t put you at risk, Cas.”

Castiel brushed his thumb over Dean’s knuckles. “I hate using my power. Sometimes I wish I didn’t have it. I’ve only used it four times in my entire life; once on Gadreel, once on you, once on a bird-like animal back on The Silver City, and then that first time at…” he trailed off with a frown and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

Dean quirked a curious eyebrow. “Oh no, now you’ve gotta tell me. How did you find out your power was resurrection? What did you use it on?”

Castiel’s cheeks heated and Dean could feel the warmth radiating from them against his chest. He grinned. “There’s a story here that I want to know.”

“It’s horrific,” Castiel groaned, scent throwing off waves of embarrassment. “Please don’t make me relive it.”

Dean smirked and rolled over, pinning Castiel beneath him and capturing his lips in a long, tender kiss. “Please, Cas?” He fluttered his eyelashes for good measure.

Castiel huffed in amusement, face burning. “It was accidental. I was at my grandmother’s funeral.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

“All her friends and the extended family were there. I was sixteen and I barely knew anyone. My grandmother took me in when I was four after my parents were shot, and I hated her. I was never good enough for her. She didn’t like omegas and she made sure to tell me every day that I was a burden to her. All her friends sneered at me and told me how useless I was when they visited. I didn’t want to go to her funeral but…” Castiel shrugged, averting his gaze. “Well, she had raised me. It was the last time I’d ever see her.”

Dean’s gaze softened and he stroked a thumb over his lover’s cheek.

“I leaned over her body and placed a hand over hers. I remember it being cold and pale. She looked so peaceful and… happy. So unlike her true self. I realised that she was the last remaining family member I had – my close relatives had all died in the war or passed of old age or been murdered, like my parents. I didn’t have a big family anyway, but when I realised that I was alone, I just… I don’t know. I panicked. I was young. I begged someone, anyone, not to make me alone.

“Grandmother Novak suddenly sat up in her coffin. She looked surprised at first, then she noticed me and she just looked disapproving.” Castiel snorted. “The audience was… disturbed to say the least.”

“Did they work it out?” Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head. “No. Everyone assumed my grandmother had been in some sort of coma that the healers had missed. Nobody questioned it. Well, I questioned it, as did Grandmother. I resurrected an animal a couple of weeks later and I knew then. So did Grandmother, but she never treated me any differently. Was still as horrible as ever despite me literally saving her from death.”

Dean brushed Castiel’s hair from his face. “You deserved better. I wish I’d known you back then.”

Castiel smiled and nuzzled into Dean’s palm. “As do I. We would have been mated by now.”

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise and Castiel sent him a wolfish grin. “What? Too soon?”

Dean shook his head and claimed his lover’s lips. “You… you want us to mate?”

“Don’t you?” Castiel asked with a light frown. “Wait… you do want a mate someday, right? Or did you not… Is it the interspecies thing? Or were you not planning on mating me one day? You always said that my past doesn’t bother you and maybe you're just not the mating type, but-”

Dean sealed their lips together. “Cas. Having you as a mate would make me the luckiest man in the universe. I just… didn’t expect you to be thinking like that so soon after everything that’s happened. I mean… we’ve not been together that long and I thought… I thought it would take a little longer to get you to trust me like that to be honest,” he confessed.

A bright smile stretched over Castiel’s face. “Dean. You protected me from Baraqiel. You killed another alpha for me. You take care of Samandriel as though he’s your own. You’ve been unbelievably patient and understanding with us both. You always stand up for me. You’re the kindest, smartest, bravest, most loving man I have ever met. You’re everything I thought alphas weren’t. _Of course_ I trust you. _Of course_ I want to spend the rest of my life with you showing you how much you mean to me.”

Castiel tangled his fingers in Dean’s hair. “I love you, Dean. I want all of you.”

Dean’s heart raced as he stared down at his perfect angel. The things that smile did to him… He grazed their lips together.

“I’d be honoured to call you my mate.” He smirked against the angel’s lips. “But you’re getting a proper proposal. One with a ring when you least expect it.”

Castiel tilted his head. “Ring?”

“An engagement ring,” Dean said slowly.

Castiel frowned. “…Is that a human thing?”

Dean blinked in surprise and barked out a laugh. “You don’t exchange rings?”

“We exchange oil,” Castiel offered. “During the mating ceremony. As a promise of devotion and belonging.” He paused. “Or as a mark of alpha or beta property if you’re an omega.”

Dean frowned. “Well, I can’t exactly exchange my oil with you… and you’re definitely not my property.” He paused before wriggling his eyebrows. “But you can mark me with your oil if you like? I could take my shirt off at the altar, maybe my pants, and you could oil me up all over.”

Castiel shook his head in amusement. “I doubt Sam would appreciate that. Also, aren’t mating ceremonies supposed to be PG?”

Dean grinned and nipped at Castiel’s neck playfully. “We could start a new trend. Naked weddings. We would save so much money on bridal dresses.”

Castiel laughed and bared his throat for Dean to nip. “I’d rather not traumatise our son.”

Dean rumbled in pleasure. _Our son._ He liked the sound of that.

“Fine,” he groaned playfully. “But you still have to mark me in your oil. I’ll give you a ring instead. We could mix our ceremonies – half angel, half human.”

Castiel nodded thoughtfully. “And how do you propose we complete the mating flight? When angels mate, they’re supposed to take part in a first flight together. Got a jet pack lying around?”

Dean snorted and shook his head. “Will a first dance do?”

“Is that a human tradition?”

Dean nodded.

Castiel smiled and nuzzled his lover’s jaw. “Then yes.”

They lapsed into silence, sharing tender kisses and playful nibbles. Soon, their kisses grew longer and wetter and more desperate and before Dean knew what was happening, Castiel was nipping at his lip and sliding their tongues together hotly.

Dean pulled away a little breathlessly and Castiel tugged him back down again and ravished his mouth.

They were both bare-chested and Dean could feel the heat of Castiel’s muscular body against his own, their skin sliding against each other as they kissed, friction and tension building in equal parts.

Castiel’s legs hooked around Dean’s hips and Dean’s breath hitched when he felt the omega’s hard length pressing into his own. The angel’s wings curved around him possessively and Dean arched upwards to feel the silky brush of feathers against his bare skin.

Castiel made an approving sound and slid a hand down to Dean’s ass, squeezing gently as he tugged the alpha’s body onto his own.

The scent of tangy mandarin, sea salt and French vanilla was intoxicating, and Dean gripped a wing and tugged at a handful of feathers, hoping to encourage the omega’s oil to trickle from a gland. He adored the smell of happy omega. Particularly _his_ happy omega.

They claimed each other’s mouths until their lips were slick and bruised and by then, Dean was rutting insistently against Castiel’s erection. Their hands were tangled against the pillow and Dean’s free hand teased at an oil gland, growing soaked in sweet oil. Castiel used his spare hand to hold Dean’s head down, fingers clutching short tufts of hair as they ruined each other’s lips.

“Pants off,” Castiel breathed against Dean’s mouth before plunging his tongue inside the wet warmth.

Dean hesitated. “Cas…”

“Pants. Off,” Castiel growled.

Dean pulled back, ignoring the omega’s whine. “You don’t have to do this,” he murmured. “I told you, Cas, I don’t need sex from you. We can do other things. You shouldn’t feel obliged to give me-”

“Dean. Take your pants off and get your knot inside me before the showerhead gains a new purpose in life.”

Dean’s eyes widened and Castiel propped himself up on one arm and cupped the alpha’s cheek.

“I saw a new side of you today. A side of you that I didn’t expect to like. The alpha who fought Baraqiel and won… I wanted to present to that alpha. I wanted him to mark me. I wanted him to pin me against that wall and claim me as his well-earned prize. He was too much of a gentleman to do that and he wanted to make sure I was okay first, which just made me love him that little bit more.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “But now is not the time for gentleness, Dean. We are safe and alone and I have a gallon of slick seeping through my pyjamas. Your cock is hard and heavy against mine and I’d much rather it be thrusting in and out of me as you growl and snarl and tell me that I’m yours. For once, I want you to be like every other alpha. I want you to knot me. Now, please claim your omega before he has to finger himself through a sad, disappointing orgasm.”

Dean blinked and a second later he was on his omega. He sucked and nipped at the angel’s nipples as he dragged Castiel’s pyjamas from him, and the angel keened as his alpha smoothed his tongue over his stomach and clutched at his feathers.

Dean nipped at his lover’s angular hips and left bruises there as he ripped off his own pants, and then he buried his nose in the short, tight curls at the base of Castiel’s cock and inhaled deeply. Long fingers gripped Dean’s hair and Dean growled before licking a stripe up the omega’s aching erection. He grabbed a handful of Castiel’s ass and used his spare hand to tweak a nipple, wringing a delicious moan from the angel.

He lapped at the head of Castiel’s dick, teasing at the slit before abruptly shoving two fingers inside Castiel’s leaking vulva.

The angel arched his back with a surprised cry and Dean scissored his fingers inside the angel, watching various expressions of pleasure flit across his face as he sucked at the omega’s dick.

Castiel clutched at the mattress, knuckles turning white as Dean fingered him relentlessly.

“Beautiful,” Dean whispered as Castiel keened, wings twitching frantically.

“Dean,” Castiel whimpered.

The alpha growled again and surged upwards to slot their lips together. His tongue plundered the angel’s mouth and he pulled his fingers out of the omega to wrap a hand around their aching cocks. He thrust into his palm, hissing at the delicious friction of Castiel’s erection against his own and he pushed a finger into Castiel’s oil gland, encouraging more oil to dribble out of it.

Castiel whined and wrapped a hand around the back of Dean’s head, holding him in place as he let the alpha wreck his mouth. His other hand raked down Dean’s spine and gripped the alpha’s ass, squeezing and tugging until Dean’s hips were pressing him into the mattress with every rut and thrust.

When Castiel’s lips were sufficiently bruised and spit-slicked, Dean latched onto the angel’s throat and worked on a new hickey. He growled and pressed Castiel further into the bed as the omega bared his throat with a needy whimper.

“You’re mine,” Dean hissed when Castiel felt the first ache in his throat. “You’re my omega. My angel.”

He nipped at Castiel’s collarbone. “You belong to me, Cas. You belong in my bed, in my arms, beneath my body. You are _mine_.”

Castiel purred in bliss as Dean returned to marking his throat. His wings flopped against the mattress and fluffed in offering for his alpha. “I’m yours, alpha,” Castiel mewled. “I need you. I need my alpha. I need him to make me his.”

Their lips crashed together again as Dean jerked them both faster. He collected Castiel’s oil and smeared it over their dicks before rubbing harder, enjoying the wet sounds of their erections sliding together.

Castiel shuddered beneath him and bared his throat to Dean once more in encouragement. Dean sucked at the enticing skin and raked his hand through fluffy feathers, smirking when his angel whimpered.

Suddenly, Dean pulled away and slid down the omega’s body. He pushed Castiel’s thighs further apart and buried his face in the wet heat of the omega’s vulva. He lapped at the sweet slick and pressed his tongue inside the angel, teasing at his pulsing walls before sucking at his clitoris. Castiel cried out and threaded his fingers into the alpha’s hair as Dean sucked and licked at him.

Dean growled softly and gripped the angel’s thighs, pinning them open as he swirled his tongue over Castiel’s labia. He nosed at the soft hair between his legs before sucking at his vulva and Castiel arched upwards with a whine. When Dean wrapped a hand around the angel’s dick and resumed sucking slick out of him, Castiel clutched the alpha’s hair with a desperate plea of, “Wait!”

Dean flicked his gaze up to the angel’s face and paused his movements, tongue still buried deep inside him.

Castiel turned his dilated gaze upon Dean. “I won’t last,” he panted. “I want you inside me.”

Dean swirled his thumb around the head of Castiel’s dick as though thinking. The angel trembled.

“Please, alpha,” Castiel begged.

Dean rumbled in approval. “Condom,” he demanded.

Castiel rushed to comply. He scrambled to the drawer at the side of the bed, slick dribbling down his thighs, and as he fumbled for a condom, Dean slithered behind him and draped himself over the omega’s back. He wrapped an arm around Castiel and slid his other hand underneath the omega to finger him a little more, and Castiel’s breaths grew shaky and heavy. When he found a condom, he leaned back against Dean as he opened it and Dean snaked his arm around the angel’s front instead and continued fingering him.

Castiel rolled his hips, little breathy groans escaping his lips as two of Dean’s fingers slipped in and out of him. Dean nipped and kissed Castiel’s shoulder as his other hand skated up and down the angel’s chest and stomach and, before Dean realised where Castiel’s own hands were creeping to, a condom was expertly rolled over his dick.

Dean nuzzled into the omega’s neck, scenting at him deeply as he hooked his fingers inside him, and Castiel’s head flopped against Dean’s shoulder.

“Like this,” Castiel begged. “I want you to knot me like this.”

Dean kept his angel trapped against his chest as he dragged him backwards into the middle of the bed. He grabbed his own dick and rubbed it down the cleft of Castiel’s ass, ensuring it caught on the angel’s puckered hole before sliding lower and rubbing lightly between his slicked lips. Castiel rolled his hips, rutting against Dean’s dick, and the alpha rumbled and carefully pushed inside.

He watched Castiel’s face for any signs of discomfort as he slipped deeper into the omega and when the angel groaned, Dean kissed his cheek and slid all the way home.

He paused, letting Castiel adjust as he stroked the angel’s stomach and pressed his lips to his jaw, but Castiel growled impatiently at him.

“Move, Dean. I’m alright, I promise.”

Raising his eyebrows, Dean wrapped both arms around his angel and gently thrust into him, scrutinising Castiel’s face for any signs of worry.

Castiel’s wings stretched wide in pleasure, halo blazing gold and violet as he closed his eyes and arched into Dean’s body.

Pleased by his omega’s apparent joy and lust, Dean splayed a protective hand over his chest and began fisting the angel’s weeping cock, hard and slow.

Castiel curled a hand around the one Dean was jerking him off with and smoothed the other over the alpha’s thigh in a tender caress.

 ** _“You’re mine,”_** Castiel whispered in Enochian as he fanned his wings in the picture of temptation. **_“You belong to me. In my wings. Your knot buried inside me. Your body safe against mine. You’re my alpha and I promise I’ll take care of you. I promise I’ll protect you.”_**

A possessive snarl tore from Dean’s throat and he tightened his grip on his omega as he thrust harder.

“Need you,” Dean hissed against his angel’s jaw. “Need you to want me. Need you to want this.”

 ** _“I want you,”_** Castiel gasped as Dean’s knot began to swell. **_“I need this, alpha. Need you to cleanse me of those other alphas. Need you to make me clean again. Make me yours.”_**

“You were always mine,” Dean snarled as he squeezed his angel’s cock. “You were never theirs. And you could never be dirty, angel. They could never make you dirty.” He nipped the omega’s jaw. “You’re too pure.”

Castiel’s cheeks flushed red as he squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the press of Dean’s knot inside him.

“You make me clean, Cas,” Dean whispered. “Not the other way around.”

Tears caught on Castiel’s eyelashes as Dean continued to ram into him.

 ** _“I love you,”_** Castiel breathed. **_“I love you and I love this. I love how you feel inside me. I love how good it feels. I want more.”_**

Dean rumbled and curled his body tighter over Castiel’s as he slammed into his omega mercilessly. Castiel groaned and whimpered and begged for more as Dean raked his nails over his chest and fisted his dick harder.

“Come for me, gorgeous,” Dean whispered. “I want to see you.”

Castiel shuddered as Dean twisted a nipple and suddenly, slick flooded his thighs and sticky white fluid spurted over Dean’s fist.

Dean rumbled in approval at the sight and the sudden burst of mandarin and vanilla. He buried his nose deep into Castiel’s throat as he found his own release. Still, he didn’t stop.    

His knot swelled and throbbed until he couldn’t pull out of the angel, but he kept thrusting, tugging at his omega’s sensitive vulva and exciting every nerve inside his walls.

Castiel whined as Dean milked his dick for every last drop, and he pushed down onto the alpha’s knot despite his exhaustion. Dean groaned as Castiel began moving against him, working his knot until he was drained and oversensitive, and then the omega squeezed his thigh with a beautiful moan and Dean was overcome with the urge to _bite_.

He sunk his teeth into Castiel’s shoulder in a clear claim and although the gesture wasn’t a part of angel culture, Castiel mewled anyway and bared his neck further.

Dean jerked his hips upwards roughly and they both cried out at the friction.

 ** _“Stop,”_** Castiel begged breathlessly. **_“Too much.”_**

Dean immediately complied, holding his angel flush with his body as he nuzzled and kissed the claim he had just made.

Castiel panted for a few moments, chest heaving as he stroked Dean’s thigh. They relaxed into one another in silence for a few minutes, focusing on the hot throbbing of Dean’s knot inside Castiel’s pulsing vulva.

Finally, Dean nuzzled his lover’s cheek. “You okay?”

Castiel nodded slowly. **_“That felt… incredible. I’ve never… Sex has never been like that before. Even with Hannah-”_**

Dean snarled abruptly and thrust upwards, making Castiel whine. Dean’s eyes widened and he ducked his head apologetically.

“Sorry, Cas.”

Castiel panted desperately. **_“You have no need to be jealous of her, Dean. She couldn’t make me half hard again two minutes after an intense orgasm.”_**

Dean peered over Castiel’s shoulder at the half-mast erection the angel was sporting. He smirked proudly and Castiel chuckled breathlessly at his scent.

**_“Twenty minutes. Just wait twenty minutes for your knot to go down and we can have another round.”_ **

Dean raised his eyebrows in delight. “You want another round?”

Castiel smiled and nodded. **_“I’ll take as many rounds as you can give me if you keep making me feel like this.”_**

Dean made a happy sound as he nuzzled his omega’s cheek. He splayed a hand over his angel’s chest and curled his other around a heaving stomach. He basked in the heat of Castiel’s body against his own. Then he smirked as a devious plot formed in his mind.

“I’d say this was in my list of top three best rounds of sex.”

Castiel paused then scowled and rolled his hips pointedly, making Dean hiss.

“Want to try that again?” Castiel growled in English. “Because I know you didn’t just compare me to Lisa.”

Dean hummed thoughtfully. “Well… I mean, you’re good… but she was just-”

Dean snapped his mouth shut as Castiel began marking his thigh with oil.

“You’re mine, Dean,” growled Castiel. “And that _woman_ didn’t deserve you. She was an idiot to leave you. You deserve to be worshipped. You deserve to be loved and cherished. You deserve more than a cheater. You deserve more than what she would ever be capable of giving to you.”

Dean hummed contentedly and closed his eyes as he rested his chin on his angel’s shoulder. He had never felt so happy. “Relax, Cas. I’m just kidding. You’re definitely the best I’ve had. Wanna know why?”

Castiel raised a curious eyebrow and Dean smiled.

“Because of how far you’ve come. Last time, you were nervous and you blamed yourself for not feeling ready – even though that was total bull. You thought so little of yourself and I had to yell at you to get it through to you that you’re worth so much. This time, you didn’t even flinch. You let me in. You told me what you wanted. You weren’t nervous. You trusted me to take care of you and then you promised to take care of me too. You know you’re better for me than Lisa ever was and I don’t even need to tell you that because you’ve already growled at me that I’m yours.”

Castiel looked embarrassed and Dean chuckled and kissed his jaw. “Confidence looks sexy on you, angel.”

Castiel quirked a shy smile before it blossomed into a pointed smirk.

“You tried to mate me.”

Dean glanced down at the claim on Castiel’s shoulder and swallowed.

“Heat of the moment. Wasn’t thinking,” muttered Dean.

Castiel grinned. “Angels don’t bite, you know. It’s seen as repulsive in our culture. Something demons do.”

Dean snapped his gaze to Castiel’s face in horror. “Did I just deeply offend you, or something? Crap. I didn’t mean to. Humans bite too. I don’t know why, but we do and-”

“Did I or did I not return the claim by marking you with my oil?” Castiel asked with a growing grin.

Dean glanced down at his shiny thigh. It smelled strongly of citrus fruit, vanilla and salt. He blinked.

“You did.”

Castiel chuckled and brushed his fingers over Dean’s bite. “I like it, Dean,” he said softly. “I want you to give me a real one someday. One that you mean.”

Dean’s mouth grew dry and he kissed the bite tenderly. “I can do that.”

He tugged the angel onto his side and their heads hit the pillows. He curled his arms around Castiel protectively and snuffled into his neck before remembering that he had left his bottle of cologne on the bedside table. He reached behind him blindly before grasping it and emptying some onto his hand.

Castiel sniffed the air curiously, unable to see what Dean was doing behind him. “Dean?”

Dean smoothed the cologne over Castiel’s chest and neck as he continued to pepper kisses over the bite. Castiel quirked an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“I can’t mark you with my oil,” murmured Dean. “But I can mark you with my cologne. It’s the one I wear every day.”

Castiel blinked before a touched smile pulled at his lips. “Dean…” he whispered, awed by how thoughtful his alpha was.

Dean shrugged. “I want to at least try to give you some angel traditions. You shouldn’t always be the one having to compromise.”

Castiel placed a hand over Dean’s. “When your knot goes down, I’m going to kiss you, Dean Winchester. I’m going to kiss you and prove exactly how much I love you.” He sighed happily as he nestled into the pillows. “And then I’m going to suck your dick until you pop a knot.”

Dean barked out a laugh and cuddled his omega. “You have no idea how much I love you, Cas.”

Castiel smiled, halo shining golden.

He could guess.

 

*             *             *

 

_Six years later_

              

“Dad!” Samandriel yelped as he tore away from Jack and glared at Dean.

“I didn’t see anything!” Dean protested, holding his hands over his face with a grimace. Then, he frowned at the teenager. “Hey! You’re supposed to be getting ready! We have…” He checked his watch. “…Seven minutes before we have to leave.”

Samandriel rolled his eyes as Jack grinned in amusement at them both.

“Whatever,” Samandriel huffed. “I’ll be ready.”

Dean narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his son and Samandriel matched the expression before throwing a sock at Dean’s face.

“I’ll be ready!”

Dean pulled a face as the sock slapped his mouth and he quickly retreated from the room, pretending not to notice a smirking Jack pinning Samandriel against the mattress.    

“Seven minutes!” he called as he shut the door.

“DAD!”

He scuttled into his room and searched for his shoes under the piles of colour-separated clothes due for a wash. He searched through old feathers (moulting season was a bitch) and waded through the trinkets that had fallen on the floor from last night (Dean loved it when Cas was rough with him). He paused to admire a fallen snow globe of the Eiffel tower (from Cas’ collection) before continuing his frantic mission. Where had he put his shoes?!

Feeling someone watching him, he straightened and turned to face Castiel, who was casually leaning against the door frame – Dean’s best shoes in hand.

“In the baby's room,” he smirked.

Dean grinned and shuffled towards the angel. He snaked his arms around his omega’s waist and kissed him soundly on the lips.

“What would I do without my amazing mate?” he asked softly, leaning their heads together.

Castiel smiled. “Walk barefooted to important engagements?”

Dean snorted and grabbed his shoes from Castiel’s grip.

“Three minutes,” Castiel said, helpfully. “Did you manage to haul Samandriel away from Jack long enough for him to get dressed?”

Dean glanced at his mate sheepishly.

Castiel rolled his eyes and left their nest, heading towards Samandriel’s room as Dean attempted to figure out how to lace up his brogues.

“Ambriel!” Dean yelped as he raced towards the baby's room. He slipped inside and quickly relaxed upon noticing that Castiel had already dressed their one-year-old daughter. He smiled and picked her up, inhaling her comforting toffee, cocoa and peppermint scent.

“Your papa is awesome, you know that?” he asked her quietly as he tickled a finger over her grey, downy feathers. Already, he could see the odd black feather poking through the fledgling grey.

She giggled and tried to grab his finger. “Dada!” she yelled excitedly.

Dean’s gaze softened, his heart flooding with affection for the beautiful little beta in his arms. “Yeah. I’m your dada.” He carded his fingers through her dark curls as he gazed into her emerald eyes.

“It’s a very special day for your papa and your big brother. They’re gonna be true American citizens today. So, you have to cheer really loud for them and show them how amazing they are, alright?”

Ambriel gave him a gummy smile and patted his cheek.

He chuckled and blew a raspberry over her tiny wing.

“Dean. I’ve just groomed her.”

Dean ducked his head in embarrassment and whirled around to grin innocently at his mate. “Sorry.”

A small smile quirked Castiel’s lips as he ventured into the room and nestled into his alpha’s side as they both turned their attention to their unique daughter.

She looked like a normal angelic fledgling except for the lack of a halo. They hoped that she wouldn’t face any difficulties in later life because of it – like bullying or judgement from her peers and teachers – but for now, they would enjoy her silly babbling and her ability to turn Samandriel into a cooing mush.

Her power hadn’t yet been revealed and they weren’t entirely sure that she would have one, considering that she was only half angel; they would love her either way.

“You ready for today?” asked Dean as he kissed his mate’s head and eyed the bite peeking out from under his omega's shirt collar.

Castiel blew out a long breath. “I think so.”

“You know… once you get full citizenship, you can buy your own house. You’ll have full independence. Won’t have to put up with me keeping an eye on you twenty-four-seven,” Dean hummed. “No annoying visits from Sam and his flock to disrupt your day. No animals to look after. You could get a new job – one you actually enjoy. You’ll be free to do whatever you like.”

Castiel bit back a grin. “That’s true.”

“Any houses caught your eye?” Dean asked casually.

Castiel shrugged. “Not really. Not yet anyway.”

Dean nodded thoughtfully and watched his lover fix Ambriel’s wing into some semblance of order. He had such a perfect family.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Move in with me?” Dean asked around a grin.

Castiel paused as though thinking it over. “You sure we wouldn’t be a burden? We’re not moving too fast?”

“We’ve been dating a while now, so might as well,” commented Dean. “And you could never be a burden.”

“I come with a lot of baggage,” warned Castiel. “I have an awful history. And I have a son. And a baby. You sure you can handle all that?”

Dean grinned and cast his gaze to his mate. Castiel sent him an amused smirk in return.

“I’ve handled worse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END!
> 
> So... this was a long ride! _MAPMonsters,_ I hope this is somewhat like what you wanted and I'm sorry it dragged on for so long! I enjoyed writing it though! It was a lot of fun!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who left me comments and kudos! You guys deserve cookies!
> 
> Stay safe with this virus, and I'll see you in the next one!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A Strange Alpha](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307506) by [MAPMonstersArePerceptions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAPMonstersArePerceptions/pseuds/MAPMonstersArePerceptions)
  * [A New Cage...But At Least We're Together?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19339384) by [MAPMonstersArePerceptions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MAPMonstersArePerceptions/pseuds/MAPMonstersArePerceptions)




End file.
